


The Summer We...

by CaitlinOcean



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Loss, Love, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), The Golden Trio Era, Veela, after the war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-05-25 14:43:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14979368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaitlinOcean/pseuds/CaitlinOcean
Summary: It was so easy to forget about You-Know-Who when we were dancing and singing at the top of our lungs and sneaking sips of alcohol from the bottle Astrid hid under the bathroom sink. I never felt closer to my mum and dad, and my brothers, and my friends than I did that summer, the summer we all had owl feathers in our hair, the summer we hid from Lord Voldemort and danced in defiance of him and all he stood for.





	1. The Summer We All Had Owl Feathers in Our Hair

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again :)  
> This is the sequel to Black Dog (which is the sequel to Energy). If you haven't read those I highly recommend it! 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

**ASTRID: I’m the type of girl to look you dead in the eye.**

_Creak_. BOUNCE……

_Creak_. BOUNCE. Wiggle….

Creak. BOUNCE…

Creak. BOUNCE…

I’m ashamed to admit it took several more mysterious bounces at the foot of my bed before I truly woke up and felt I should investigate. Groggily I rolled over, rubbing the sleep from my eyes to find Fred and George Weasley tandem jumping on the corners of my bed.

My mother sleeps like a god damn Angel and birds fly in through the windows to tie ribbons in her hair and bask in her ethereal beauty. I sleep like a hungover Rockstar. Apparently, like so many of my less than classy traits, I have my father to thank for that.

I managed to sit up and tossed my pillow to the floor, black marks from the makeup I failed to remove last night smudged on the pillow case. My hair flowed over my right shoulder in messy waves. I shook it out and my fingers got caught in a mat from the pillow I slept under all night.

“What are you doing?” I rasped, shlumping back into my pillows.

“Well it’s noon” Fred said, adding a half spin to his jump.

“and we had rather a lot planned for today.” George continued.

“-before we lock up.”

Fuck. We were leaving tomorrow.

“My mum says we have to be good, there’s going to be a lot of us stuck together.”

“Not possible-“

“-with you around.” George finished with a wink.

I snickered. Truthfully, I was very nervous about being locked up all summer with so many people. My Veela magic is as freshly minted as it comes. I celebrated my 16th birthday just a few months ago and I was still getting used to this new and sultry magic. It doesn’t help that my mum and I have two very different ideas on how to use our magic (cough SHE DOESN’T) and I want to let the Veela stretch her legs whenever she wants. After just three days of summer break I received the talking to of a lifetime when Fred, concerned about his brother’s mental state, ratted me out to my mother.

“George is out on the porch waxing poetic about Astrid’s left earlobe.” I heard Fred announce to my mum. I smiled and kept brushing my hair as my mum and Fred hurried across the foyer and the screen door banged behind them.

“ASTRID BLACK!” She hollered.

“WHAT!” I yelled back defensively.

“GET DOWN HERE YOUNG LADY.”

I went to face her wrath with a straight back and squared shoulders and I still had no idea what I’d done.

“STAGE 2, NO, STAGE 3, TOXICITY.”

“From _what?_ ” I sassed.

“From _you.”_ She sassed right back. “Sit your ass down.”

I sat. Fred slid into the seat across from me. George was sitting on the floor with his back against the cabinets. Legs spread out in front of him in a V. Body like jello.

“It’s all George’s fault really. Can’t get enough of that Veela potion.” Fred said, taking full pleasure in his brother’s predicament.

“Ayyyy” George said from the floor giving Fred the double finger gun.

“What were you doing using that much venom on him anyway?! Trying to knock him out?”

“No what I had in mind usually goes better with a conscious person.” I answered, winking at George.

He keeled over and my mother rounded on me. Flames burning in her palms and her eyes and her very soul. Hair blowing around her face.

“This isn’t funny!” She slammed her cauldron onto the grate and used her hand to light it. “You don’t even need to use venom on him Astrid, not that you ever _need to use it._ So, why in the name of Merlin, were you using your venom!”

“Dunno.” I answered. She glared at me over her cauldron and in her silence, I suffered.

 “Because it feels good!” I shouted. She didn’t answer.

When the potion was finished she helped George drink it and he slowly came back around.

“Godric Gryffindor that was a trip.” He said dragging his body into a free chair.

“Told you.” Fred said.

“Go, you’re all grounded.” My mum said.

“You’re not our mother!” The twins argued.

“Your mother gave me rights. Go.”

“I didn’t even do anything.” Fred protested.

“Fred Weasley, you and I both know you have done _something_ that warrants a night in your guest room.” She said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Fred apparently could not argue with that and he and George traipsed up the stairs, my grumpy footsteps not far behind.

That night, Remus Lupin, the man who raised me, tapped on my door and played good cop to my mom’s bad cop. My real dad, who I had only just met a year or so before was already locked away in the safe house for the Order of the Phoenix. I was delighted to see Remus. I loved my dad very much but, we were still getting to know each other and the years my family spent apart were often painfully obvious. Remus, was in on our groove, he knew my mom’s rules, he knew me.

“It’s not ok to treat people like that Astrid, just because it feels good.” He said quietly.

My stomach twisted in shame but, I kept quiet.

“And we can’t have you doing this after the move.”

**CELINE: I’m such a fool for sacrifice.**

The house was so quiet. The kind of quiet I only get when Astrid is at school. The kind of quiet you never get around the twins. I took a sip of the most perfect cup of tea and turned to the sports section of the Daily Prophet. Just as I was marveling at how they could possibly find a way to slander Harry in the quidditch scores Fred padded into the kitchen. I have learned this summer, that when Fred shows up alone, my daughter has done something I should yell at her for.

He opened the ice chest and pulled out orange juice, glugging straight from the carton. He was shirtless and his flannel pajama bottoms had a hole in the knee that hurt my heart. Merlin, did that kid have freckles. Astrid always said the most beautiful thing about George Weasley was his constellation of freckles. Looking at his twin, I kind of understood what she meant.

Fred smacked his lips and wiped them with the back of his hand.

“Your daughters doing something really weird.”

“How weird?” I asked casually.

“ _Really_ weird.”

I put my paper down and took the OJ from his hand as I passed him, tossing it in the bin. I opened up the door to Astrid’s room and found her sitting crossed legged on the floor, lighting matches and swallowing them whole. She was wearing a tank top and her tiniest shorts and she was sweating profusely. George was crossed legged in front of her, his knees touching hers, watching her with a look of awe.

It appeared Astrid would be capable of conjuring flames soon.

“Oh darling.” I said. “ Come with me.” I had to pull the matches from her hands and lead her down to the kitchen. I sat her right in front of the fire and she immediately reached for the flames.

“Stop! We’ll get you warmed up don’t worry.”

“Warmed up?” The twins asked. “I think she’s good.” George finished.

I set a kettle on the fire and took her temperature. The mercury hit 115F.

“You’ve got a ways to go.” I tutted.

“Mum I need this to stop.” She panted, slicking her sweaty hair straight back. “How does it stop.”

“It stops when your temperature hits 212.” The kettle whistled and I poured a mug of bubbling hot water. She gulped it straight down. “Go get some more clothes on and, grab an old blanket. We’ll get your fire started.” I kissed her forehead and she ran off.

“You two.” I said rounding on the twins. “We need to make her mad.”

The boys smiled wickedly and looked to each other incredulously. I could hear their gears turning.

“How mad?” Fred asked.

“Mad.” I answered.

“Permission to let loose?” George asked, eyes narrowed.

“As long as you accept she will probably light your ass up at some point.”

“Risk we’re willing to take.” Fred said. They high fived and ran from the room.

While Astrid was trying to raise her temp, the twins were there at every turn. If she sat in a chair, there was already a whoopee cushion in it. She sat down at the piano only to find it was out of tune, and found her guitar in the same state. When she tried to run herself a scorching hot bath, a dung bomb had been set loose.

The rest of the Weasley’s showed up around lunch time.

“We’re having a bit of a situation over here.” I alerted them.

Ron took one look at Astrid wrapped in blankets by the fire and shook his head. “You are a mess.”

“A hot mess.” She agreed.

I took her temperature again. 200F, we were in the home stretch. Ginny and Ron agreed to keep Astrid company while Molly, Arthur, and I went to the sunroom. We discussed the move we were all about to make.

“Harry is going to be so upset when he finds out he had to stay at the Dursley’s.” I said.

Molly agreed. “I don’t know why he can’t come.”

Fred and George entered the room and began taking Astrid’s painstakingly alphabetized books and moving them out of order.

“Because Dumbledore is an ass.” I said, even though I knew they didn’t agree.

“What are you doing!” Molly hissed at the boys.

“Celine’s orders-“ George started.

“We’re making Astrid very mad.” Fred finished.

Molly looked to me for confirmation and I nodded. “She needs a spark to light the flames she been working on all day.”

“Mummy.” Astrid came into the room, tears streaming down her face. The twins ducked down innocently.

She fell into my arms and sobbed into my chest. “I want this to stop.” She whimpered. Over her shoulder I saw George melting at the sight of her in tears.

“ _Focus_!” I mouthed.

While her back was to them they moved a few more books around and sat in the corner, innocent as angels.

I have to admit, I didn’t think this would upset her as much. She embraced every part of her Veela magic in a way I never have, never could. Sirius said it’s because we have been raised by two very different Veela. I think it’s because she’s too much like her father. Maybe we were both a little right. Still, I didn’t think this would be the part to break her. Nothing breaks her.

Soon, the tears stopped.

“Why don’t you grab something to read and ask Cookie to boil the bathwater?” I suggested.

“That’s a good idea.” She said pulling herself to her feet and scanning the bookshelves.

I am so happy I got to see the look of pure disbelief on her face before she burst into flames and rounded on the twins.

“YOU!” She growled. I have never, ever, seen Fred and George run so fast. They high tailed it out of the room and the BANG of the screen door let us know they ran outside. Astrid was hot on their heels, a giant fireball in her hand ready to fling their way when she realized what she was doing. Her flames extinguished and she looked at her palms in wonder.

The twins whooped and wolf whistled from the end of the drive and Astrid jumped and twirled in the air lighting her palms on fire again just because she could. George picked her up in a bear hug and swung her around.

“Astrid Black you have achieved the impossible what are you going to do next?” Fred mock interviewed her as she pulled away from George’s arms.

“I’m going to jump in the pool.” She said with her smile bright as the sun.

**SIRIUS: Hours pass and she still counts the minutes that I am not there.**

My family is coming today. For the first time, since James and Lily died, I would be living with my wife and daughter. The thought made me shake with glee. Not only would I be with Astrid and Celine but, Remus and, my cousin’s daughter, and Harry. Harry Potter, whose parents passed the torch onto Celine and I and made him my son, our son. I could sleep next to my wife at night. I could sleep _with_ my wife again.

Fuck. Yes.

Order members were in and out all day. Thank Merlin because I would have self-combusted if I had to wait in this house for my family all day, alone, with Kreacher. The only words Dumbledore ever said to me were _sit_ and _stay_. Wait like a good boy.

I don’t have anymore time to wait though.

Finally, _finally_ , the locks on the front door spun. I jumped up from my chair and six Weasleys spilled in the door. Ron and the youngest who I haven’t met and two identical firecrackers and Arthur and Molly looking drained. Then a teenage girl in a pink jacket with the words “not your babe” scrawled across the back cried out “Dad!” before she flew into my arms.

_Dad!_ That’s me.

“Dad! Check this out!” Flames licked her palms as she spread her arms out wide on either side of her, putting her magic on display. I thought about her mother as a sixteen year old Veela, full of shame and self-loathing, and my chest ached with pride at the confident daughter she raised.

“My turn” Celine said, eyes locked on mine as she glided towards me. Her arms slipped around my shoulders and just like that I was 21 again. Her body fit in my arms just like I remembered and I wanted to be kissing her fit to make up for the last 14 years. But there were a lot of people here and I guess I’d just have to wait.

The kids were looking around them with curiosity and distaste. I couldn’t blame them this place is a wreck. Molly looked like she didn’t want to put her handbag down. Celine let out a long low whistle.

“It’s wild being back here. I feel like I’m on the wrong end of a time-turner.”

“Let’s get into the kitchen before we wake the old hag up.” I said hooking my finger back towards the foyer. “My mother’s portrait is…loud.”

I didn’t want to break contact with Celine, not when I have waited so long. Every time she turned to look at me my heart raced. Every time her lips kissed her wine glass I wanted it to be me her lips touched. The kitchen was filled with laughter. There has _never_ been this much laughter in this house. It was late when we all ascended the stairs. We eventually got the kids settled in rooms to their liking. At the foot of the staircase to the third floor Celine doubled back and opened Astrid’s door.

“Stay in your own bed or I’ll lock you in here tomorrow night.” She warned.

“Love you mum.” Was the only answer she got.

“and I love you, darling.”

She banged on the twin’s door and said “and that goes for you too, George!” Identical evil snickers reached our ears.

“Do I need to watch out for him?” I whispered, smiling down at her.

“No, Astrid can take care of herself.” She insisted, opening my bedroom door with a huff. “Remember what we talked about before she was born. You have a Veela daughter not a human one.”

“I remember.” I said watching her enter my room.

“I don’t think we’ve ever hooked up in here.” She teased, arms reaching for me.

I grabbed her hips and pulled them flush against mine. Her breath caught before I kissed her like I wanted to in the foyer. I wanted her naked, now. I wanted to touch every inch of this body I knew as well as my own. Her lips stung like before. Her pupils were pinned as she took me in her mouth. I licked her calf and the curve of her ass and relished the taste of her shoulder.

The moon peeked in through the curtains and cut across the bed. With a curl of her fingers the curtain pulled open letting every moon beam in. I looked down at our bodies tangled in the blankets and each other’s limbs and asked

“how does this feel the same as before?”

**REMUS: Teenagers scare the living shit out of me.**

I never fully appreciated how much Celine controlled her magic until I spent a summer holed up in Grimmauld Place with Astrid. Everywhere I turned I was surrounded by evidence of a teenaged Veela. On a rainy Saturday I noticed for the first time all the mirrors were turned around, even the massive one above the mantle. She drew the moon everywhere. Creating made her calmer so, she sang and played her guitar but, her voice was full of magic. She had a way of getting us all to do as she liked. I know she tries to be kind, to spare us but, she was still the pied piper and we were all following her lead. Of all the signs that she was playing us, none woke me like the owl feathers.

She tied them in her own hair first. A big black one from Sirius’ owl. Celine and Sirius were adorned with Black one’s too. The shiny feather blended so closely with Sirius’ hair it looked like it grew out of his skull. After a letter from Harry, Ginny received a snow white feather dipped in gold. I admired the way Tonks’ feather curled around her chin as Astrid tied a feather from a Great Horned Owl in my own hair.

I came home from a stint with the Werewolves to find her fingers tangled in Fred’s hair. A mass of Pigwidgeon’s tiny feathers knotted to form a mohawk. His brother sporting an identical look. When she finished Fred crowed like a rooster and disappeared to wherever those two go when they’re up to something. I always took the feather out when I left the safe house. Everyone who worked outside did, it was way too suspicious for all of us to be wearing the same odd adornment. Yet somehow, I always found myself removing another feather.

When Harry came, I watched her tie white feathers here and there, giving him the salt and pepper look of a much older man. She smiled and touched and gave playful tugs on his fringe and he made no protests.

She had us all wrapped around her little finger.

She played Sirius like a fiddle. No parenting experience, raging PTSD, and arrested development led to a flagrant inability to see through her manipulation. My position in this parenting triangle was murky so I deferred to “sure.” After Celine caught Astrid supervising the twins demo-ing her bedroom wall so they could all have tunnels to each other’s rooms she demanded to know who gave her permission to do construction work. Her answer?

“Well Remus said no…so I asked Sirius and he said yes.”

“FAMILY MEETING RIGHT NOW!” Celine had hollered.

We all marched to the kitchen.

“I know you are having the definition of Daddy issues right now Astrid but let me make one thing perfectly clear. Sirius doesn’t tell you what to do, Remus doesn’t tell you what to do, I tell you what to do.”

Astrid pouted but her defense was powerless against the Queen.

“If Astrid asks permission to do anything what are you going to tell her Remus?” She asked, rounding on me.

“Ask your mother.” I replied.

“Sirius? Same question.”

“Ask your mother.”

“That’s right. Ask. Your. Mother.” The victor said, as an owl feather came untucked from behind her ear.

**GINNY: I saw a spider, I didn’t scream.**

My favorite part about living at Grimmauld Place was Friday Night Dedications. Friday was the busiest night at headquarters. The most people stayed for dinner and our favorites always stayed for a nightcap. While half the order and all the kids were assembled in the parlour, Astrid and George would ask for song requests, which quickly evolved into dedications. George always started us off with a song dedicated to Astrid.

George and Astrid are so fucking stupid.

They’ve been in love their whole lives but rather than date and be happy they prefer to flirt and fight and indulge the ever wandering eyes they both have. Like them, I also know what it feels like to be in love with someone most your life. Unlike them, the way he looks at me is more like a little sister.

This Friday, I entered the parlour and Astrid and Celine were standing atop the coffee table dancing wildly to a hip-hop beat. Their movements mirrored each other as if they practiced.

“How do they do that?” Ron asked.

“Veela talk with their bodies.” Sirius said mysteriously. Ron’s cheeks pinked.

“It’s only dirty if you make it dirty, Ron.” I said, pushing him. He turned redder still.

George dedicates just as many break-up, fuck-you forever, songs to Astrid as he does love songs. Astrid sings loudest to the break-up songs and I swear to Helga Hufflepuff when she sings along my brother falls in love with her harder than before.

Tonks is here, with Remus and Kingsley, McGonagall stayed along with Mundungus. George picked up the fiddle Celine bought him for his birthday and started a reel. The crowd giggled and Astrid and Celine insisted it would be a riot. Sirius, with his pureblood professional dance training bowed to Celine and she curtsied and took his hand. We howled with laughter. At the end of their line Sirius held his hand out to McGonagall.

“Don’t act like you Scots don’t love a good reel, Minnie.” He crowed.

Hermione and I exchanged looks of pure shock when McGonagall picked up the hem of her robes and showed us _all_ how to dance a reel.

Before long we all figured it out. We clapped and stamped our feet and my heart leapt into my throat when I realized Harry and I were next in line. Our hands clasped together and I _floated_ across that floor. It was so easy to forget about You-Know-Who when we were dancing and singing at the top of our lungs and sneaking sips of alcohol from the bottle Astrid hid under the bathroom sink.

I never felt closer to my mum and dad, and my brothers, and my friends than I did that summer, the summer we all had owl feathers in our hair, the summer we hid from Lord Voldemort and danced in defiance of him and all he stood for. My heart swelled and my head swam as I watched Sirius and Astrid ballroom dance around the parlour and Celine teach Harry basic steps and the importance of leading a lady.

“Your father had two left feet, too.” She teased, pinching his nose.

From where I was standing, it looked like Harry had the family he always wanted, and I hoped he felt the same.

**George: I’ll try and kiss you if you let me.**

I don’t know what everyone’s problem with Astrid is. Her Veela magic is _fantastic_.

If our experiments pan out, the Veela magic we’re adding to the love potion we invented will make us filthy rich. So sue me if I don’t find her antics irritating. Besides, who wants to be around boring people anyway?

Will she climb in bed with me or cut the twigs off my broomstick?

Either way I’ll keep coming back for more.

The first morning at headquarters I made it a point to formerly introduce myself to Sirius, just to cover my ass. He is Astrid’s father after all.

Bonus, it turns out he didn’t murder all those people.

“Morning sir, George Weasley, I’m the better looking twin, didn’t have a chance to properly introduce myself last night.”

“Usually when a bloke sucks up to an attractive girls father, he has a reason to.” He said.

The kitchen door swung open and Astrid and Celine entered. I bit back a smile and said “well, we did get married in my back garden when I was 9 so, there is some history there.”

“It was a beautiful ceremony.” Astrid gushed taking my hands. “Ron was the priest and Ginny was the flower girl, Fred walked me down the aisle.”

“And we somehow got that gnome to hold the grass rings.”

“Then our mums hollered something fierce right as we were about to kiss.” She said as I twirled her around. She was darling when she wanted to be.

“Is a marriage legal if you didn’t consummate it?” Fred asked as he entered the kitchen (bloody git, Sirius _could_ be capable of murder after all.)

“Didn’t consummate it?” Astrid countered. She cannot stand when people have the facts wrong. “What do you call what Geroge and I did by the black lake last year then?”

“Bye.” I said. High tailing it out of there.

So that was Sirius Black’s first impression of me: Handsome, stand up guy, followed by visions of me deflowering his only daughter by a lake.

Now _that_ was a memory.

We had gone to the Yule ball together and I don’t know if I’ve _ever_ had that much fun. The six of us, Fred and Angelina, Lee and Alicia, Astrid and I, had a pre-yule ball party in our dormitory, danced our faces off all evening and Astrid and I rounded off the night by snogging heavily against the side of the castle. It wasn’t the first time we kissed but, it was the first time we kissed like _that_.

 Not too long after, she asked to speak with me alone. Anticipating more kissing, I practically ran away from Fred.

“I want to have sex with you.” She said.

“Now?” I asked looking up and down the hallway. “Not exactly the place I’d pick but, if you’re into it…”

“Shut it.” She said, swatting me playfully. “I’m going to be sixteen soon. I need to do it before the Veela magic kicks in. I want it to be on my terms, not the Veela’s, and I want it to be with you.”

Fred had done it with Angelina and I was eager to catch up. I also couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.

“When and where baby?”

The next week we scoured the castle looking for a private and appropriate spot. Those moments were electric. I was drooling imagining her naked. My body responded immediately every time she was near which was extremely inconvenient and awkward. The fact that she would literally eye fuck me from across the common room didn’t exactly help either.

A few days after she propositioned me we found the perfect spot. A secluded and grassy area on the far side of the lake. When we deemed it perfect our bodies pulled together like magnets. Her lips were so full and soft and we laughed together as we wrestled in the grass for the top spot. Our kisses and hands were rough and I vaguely remember growling in her ear that it would be impossible to wait for tomorrow.

But wait we did. She borrowed the map and the cloak from Harry and we made it down to the spot we chose sometime near midnight. The moon smiled like a chesire cat in the sky and she smiled up at it before turning to me and folding into my arms. She told me she wanted to kiss every one of my freckles before she died. I told her it would likely take that long. I entered her and my brain shut down from the sensation.

“Astrid you feel like heaven, you _are_ heaven.” I groaned in her ear.

“You feel hard.” She moaned and I don’t know how I didn’t cum right then.

Shortly after that night of sin we were distracted by other people…again. Which is really fucking stupid of me because no one can hold a candle to Astrid. Truthfully though, I wasn’t interested in settling down just yet. Even with someone as funny and interesting and sexually uninhibited as she was.

After she nearly got me killed by her mass murderer father she tried to make up by kissing me and I pushed her away.

“Fred how about a kiss.” She said after I ignored her.

“Sure, I need to stay in practice.” He joked stretching like he was getting ready to practice Quidditch.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I shrugged. He dove in and I kept strumming my guitar. She kissed him deeply and skipped from the room.

“do her lips always burn like that?” Asked a man who had just been duped by a Veela.

“Yep, imagine how it feels on your…”

“Nope. No. Not going there.”  


But her magic made it so he couldn’t help but go there. Fred was a mad man. He woke me up in the middle of the night to get me to answer the question he claimed he didn’t want to know the answer to just hours earlier.

“Like no other girl will ever be able to blow you like her.” I said, hitting him with my pillow.

He took really long showers.

After a few days he came around. He woke up, defeated and disgusted with himself.

“You are _insane._ ” He said shaking his head.

“I am immune to her bullshit.” I corrected.

And I truly am. I adore her. I hate her. I dream about her. I worship her. I want to fucking fight her like every 3 hours.

But we also deeply understand each other and now, is not our time.  

**HARRY: Is there room for one more son?**

“I have an announcement to make.” Celine said folding her newspaper and getting to her feet. It was Saturday morning and the breakfast table was full. Mr. & Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Mundungus, Sirius, & Remus politely turned their attention her way but we were all a little more distracted.

“You guys spend all your time eavesdropping on order meetings and here I am, giving it away for free, and you don’t care.”

Total silence.

“That’s better.” She said with a small smile. “Lord Voldemort is very interested in recruiting the Veela. Which is why Astrid and I are in so much danger. Albus Dumbledore, despite almost two decades of me telling him no, is also very interested in recruiting the Veela. So, I will be leaving for a week or so.”

“Why?” I blurted out.

“I will answer questions at the end darling.” She kindly answered. “If I am successful, I will be binging someone back here with me.”

Astrid was shaking with glee but she didn’t say a word.

“Dumbledore would like me to attempt to bring my mother here so we can discuss recruiting the Veela with her.” 

“YES!” Astrid said jumping clear out of her seat.

Sirius and Remus exchanged incredulous looks before bursting into laughter.

“Your _mother_ and _you_? In the same _house?”_ Remus repeated, wiping tears from his eyes.

Sirius was still laughing uncontrollably. Fist hammering the table. “Merlin’s beard you’re going to have an aneurysm!” He said coming up for air.

“When was the last time you saw your mum?” Tonks asked.

“When she was deported. I was 18.” Celine said drumming her fingers impatiently on the table. “If the _boys_ are done laughing at my expense I will answer questions now.”

“Why does Lord Voldemort want to recruit the Veela?” I asked at once.

“Have you spent any time with Astrid this summer?” George snickered.

“The Veela would be an exceptional asset to Lord Voldemort in growing his numbers because they make people feel good and their venom makes you want to throw away your life for them. Also, they have essentially weaponized sex. We know that Lord Voldemort does not comprehend love and emotion but, we also know he is aware that humans are driven by love and connectedness. So, the Veela could handle that for him.”

“Why can’t he find them?” I asked.

“Because no one knows where Veela live. They are experts at hiding. They can slip between a shadow and a moonbeam and you would swear that shimmering blonde you just saw was a trick of the light.”

I thought of the Veela I saw in the clearing at the Quidditch World Cup last summer. Tall and bright and slightly ominous.

“However, Veela show themselves quite often when they come out to play.” She said bitterly. “His recruiting efforts have been disastrous.”

“So Dumbledore thinks your mother might be the key?” Hermione asked. “Because you can find them?”

“I only know I can find my mother because she will show herself to me but, if my mother agrees to help us she can recruit the other Veela, wherever they hide.”

“Do you think this will work?” I asked, excited.

“Not at all.”

The days leading up to Celine’s departure for Bulgaria she was tense and snappy. One evening, Astrid and the twins came down the stairs laughing and playfully arguing.

“Stop you guys it’s not that similar!” Astrid said chuckling.

“It is-“

“and you know it.” The twins answered.

“What’s similar?” Celine asked pleasantly.

“Lilith.” Fred said.

“What?” Celine asked. Fred, George, and Astrid didn’t notice her nails cutting into the wood of the table. Sirius was washing dishes and didn’t observe the change in his wife.

“Lilith? Ever hear of her?”

“These knuckleheads think Lilith is very similar to –“

“You think I don’t know about Lilith!” Celine hissed. She no longer sounded like the angel faced surrogate mother I have come to know. Her warm and inviting eyes were now dark and dead like a raptors. She pushed herself to her feet so fast we all jumped. “You think I don’t know Lilith! I was raised by Lilith!” Fred, George, and Astrid ran around the far side of the table and Celine stalked around to meet them. The three turned and ran for the door and Celine lunged for Astrid. Sirius at that moment lunged for Celine and caught her around the middle. The twins and Astrid ran up the stairs and did not look back. Celine struggled in Sirius’ arms for another minute. Sirius just held on tight to her.

She eventually calmed but, her eyes were still locked on the door. Sirius’ arms were tight around her waist. He pulled her hair to the side and pressed his lips to the base of her neck. A spell was broken and she pushed away from him. I watched as she opened the cupboard beneath the sink and searched for something way in the back. She emerged with a pack of cigarettes that were stuck to the bottom of the sink with a sticking charm. She lit one and leaned against the counter, exhaling the smoke into the room.

“I don’t want to go.” She said.

“When was the last time you smoked?” Sirius laughed.

“When I started training to be an Unspeakable like 13 years ago.”

“MUM” Astrid called. Celine quickly stubbed out her cigarette and waved her hand through the air trying to clear the smoke. She tossed all the evidence in the bin.

“I’M COMING DOWN DON’T KILL ME.” She called.

Astrid came back in the room and Celine showered her with hugs and kisses and I’m sorrys. Astrid sat down next to me and traced the deep scratch marks her mother put in the table with her finger.

She did go. She pulled Astrid and I close in the foyer and hugged us tight. I found myself not wanting to let her go. It felt so good, tucked up under her arm. She pushed my hair back and kissed my forehead. “I love you my darlings.” She said with a sniff. “I’m going to miss you both.”

“I love you too, mum.” Astrid said getting her own kiss on the forehead.

“I love you, too” I echoed. the word ‘mum’ dying before I could get it out.

She released us and reached for Sirius. I turned away from their embrace, trying to fight the blush. As she gathered her things and left Grimmauld place I wished I had called her Mum.

She returned a week later in the middle of the night. I blearily entered the kitchen and had to blink twice. She was sitting at the table with a cup of tea and her newspaper as if she hadn’t been gone at all.

“Mum!” I said and this time the word came out before I could stop it. I reached for a hug and she breathed in response

“Son.”

“Did she come back with you?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “She is sleeping upstairs.”

We were soon joined by the rest of the house including a very bubbly, very excited Astrid.

“You’re like an over excited Chihuahua!” Ron snapped as she sprang from her seat again to fidget around the room.

“Sit down.” Celine said, crumpling the Daily Prophet as she closed it. Astrid sat. “Let me make one thing clear. Edahna is not to be emulated.”

Astrid didn’t talk back for once. Just quietly hung on every word.

“You’re going to love her. She is wild and free and will encourage all your passing impulses. She isn’t human, she is a Veela. She loves us, in her own way, but she won’t stay, she doesn’t stay, she’s _never_ stayed.”

“Enjoy her why she’s here.” Sirius said. “She is a blast.”

“And don’t cry when she leaves.” Remus said shortly.

“Remus Lupin as I live and breathe.” An unfamiliar voice joined in.

Remus turned and smiled to who was most certainly Celine’s mother. She was very tall, taller than Remus, and looked very much like Celine. Since she entered the room, the world seemed a little bit sunnier.

She hugged Remus and held him at arm’s length. “All grown up too.” She flirted.

“He’s not the only one.” Sirius said appearing at Remus’ side and flexing his arms over his head. Edahna giggled as Sirius twirled her around before hugging her as well.

“Can I get some whiskey in this please?” Celine whispered to her house elf, Cookie, who had just arrived to greet Edahna as well. The twins snickered.

“You must be Astrid!’ Edahna stopped flirting with Remus and Sirius and cupped Astrid’s hands in her own. She kissed each of her fingers and simply beamed at her granddaughter.

“You have our eyes.” She said, stroking Astrid’s cheeks. “But not our nose.” She said running her long index finger down the very straight bridge of Astrid’s nose.

“The Black Nose. As Walburga constantly reminded us. So, when things get bleak, Astrid, you can take comfort in the fact that you and Bellatrix Lestrange have the same nose.” The twins and Ron snorted with laughter and Mr. Weasley tipped some more whiskey into Celine’s tea cup.

“I did not inherit the Black Nose.” Sirius said tapping a finger to his Roman snoz.  “One of my many failings in life. Regulus grew the correct nose though, bastard.”

“Tonks you have the Black nose as well!” Celine cheered. Tonks immediately screwed up her face and made a very large, ugly nose appear on it.

“That’s what my mother’s nose looked like.” Sirius confirmed. Even Mrs. Weasley gave a chuckle at that one.

“Mother let go of Astrid and sit down.” Celine gestured to the table and the group gathered there. Immediately, the entire focus of the room shifted from nose hereditary to Edahna Bell.

And Edahna was looking at me.

But not in the way people usually look at me. Shocked expression, eyes searching for the scar on my forehead before flitting away, the incomprehensible stuttering of my first name. She was looking at me like I was a long lost friend.

“It’s like James is here.”

Her voice cut across the nonsense being talked at her as if she had yelled but it was barely more than a whisper.

Sirius squeezed my shoulder and looked proudly down at me. “It is, isn’t it?”

Her eyes bore into me and she said “you’re sweeter than James though. James was er….. _cocky._ ”

I had the distinct feeling she chose this word on purpose.

“When did you hear about what happened, mother?” Celine asked foregoing the tea and pouring the whiskey straight over ice.

“Voldemort was not such a problem in Bulgaria. It took longer. Maybe two weeks later I was at an Inn and the owner had a letter for me from Darius. It had the newspaper article in it. So I followed the papers after that.”

“Who’s Darius?” I asked.

“My crap bag father.” Celine answered taking a big sip of her drink. “Who apparently took the time to drop you a note but couldn’t be bothered to check on me while I was in the hospital.”

Edahna shrugged her shoulders dismissively.

Sensing the tension Mrs. Weasley asked “do you have any other children Edahna?”

“A few!” She said cheerfully. “I have had three girls and one boy. It is very rare to have a son but, Celine is my only human. None of my sisters have a human daughter” Edahna smiled adoringly at Celine and reached for her hands across the table. Celine allowed her hands to be held but didn’t soften at all.

I had the distinct impression Celine and Edahna were communicating even though they were silent. Edahna patted Celine’s hand and swept from the room, ignoring the protests of the men. Cookie began cleaning up after Edahna.

“You don’t have to wait on her Cookie.” Celine said sadly.

“I don’t mind Celine Black.” Cookie said patting Celine’s leg. “Us Being’s need to stick together.”

Spending a week with Edahna showed us all just how valuable an army of Veela would be. She had to help she just had to. How could she not! How could she sit there and remember my dad and my mom and not want to fight the force that killed them. How could she love Celine and Sirius and Remus and Astrid and not want to fight with them, for them? Remus doubted because Celine did. When I questioned him about it he said “You know the saying ‘make love not war?’ Well Veela like to make love AND war.”

Celine was the only one who knew how this would end. After several days and several meetings with Dumbledore, Edahna disappeared in the middle of the night. The minute Dumbledore entered the house Celine flung venomous ‘I told you so’s’ at him. Dumbledore silently accepted her onslaught of hurt and pain. When she finished he thanked her for doing this, for trying, and she walked out of the house. 

 I learned that night that you can grieve the loss of your parents even if they’re not dead.


	2. The Summer We All Fell In Love

**Celine: I see a red door and I want it painted black.**

So this is how summer would start then. Not one week ago Sirius and I were eagerly awaiting the end of term. Making plans and dreaming in each other’s arms. Now, I was storming out of Dumbledore’s office his apologizes and sympathy ringing in my ears, mixing with the adrenaline, compounding the events of the last several hours till one thought rose to the surface of my brain and demanded action.

Tell Harry.

My footsteps echoed in the hall as they beat the familiar path to my destination. Even after all these years, my feet guided me. McGonagall caught up with me on the staircase.

“Celine, be reasonable.” She urged. Worry twisting her lined face as she hurried to keep up.

“I’m done with him Minerva, done.”

“You say that every time something happens Celine!” She challenged.

She was right. I have been done with Albus Dumbledore many times before. My footsteps slowed as I faced the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Minerva, please give me the password.”

“Celine, you need to breathe, you cannot go in there and make a scene in front of the students.”

“Minerva. Open the Portrait.”

“What are you planning to do once you are inside.”

“I need to talk to my son.”

And I could read my use of the word son shattered her.

She gave the password and I tore through the portrait hole. “Harry!” I cried out.

He was in the common room with Astrid, Ron, and Hermione. “Celine!” McGonagall chided. “Don’t make a scene!” She hissed.

“I need you to know Harry that it was Dumbledore who sent you to Petunia’s. That I didn’t let you go! I fought for you Harry _every year_ since James and Lily died. EVERY YEAR I would come up to this god forsaken castle and beg Dumbledore to let me go get you. To help me get you home with Astrid and I and every year he told me no.” I was crying now. “I don’t know who died and made him king of the goddamn world but he is the one who makes it so you can’t be with us! But I am done. You are fifteen and you are coming home this summer Harry and if Dumbledore or the ministry has something to say about it they can _try me._ ”

Sometime during my rant he crossed the room and hugged me. Buried his head in my shoulder like a little boy and hugged me.

“I can’t go.” He whispered.

“Why not?” I asked through another wave of tears. He asked me to take a walk with him. I followed him out of the portrait hole and as we strolled through the halls he told me about the spell. About Lily’s love and how it protects him when he is home.

“Why couldn’t he just tell me that?” I asked the wind. “It would have saved us all so much heartbreak, so much time.”

“He said it’s one of his biggest mistakes.”

I snorted my doubt in response.

“You’ve got to believe in him Celine.”

I shook my head slightly. “You don’t know the things he’s capable of Harry.”

“Last summer, Sirius said to me ‘the world isn’t split into good people and death eaters.’”

I shook my head again. “I should have fought harder for you.”

“You’re the _only_ person who fought for me, Mum.”

**Astrid: The craziest friend that you’ve ever had.**

_‘I wonder if other families frame their relatives mugshots?’_ I mused from the floor of my foyer. I was laying on my back, legs crossed and arms stretched out on either side of me, dead with boredom. On the wall in front of me was a gallery of framed photographs and both of my father’s mugshots were proudly displayed for all our visitors to see. The first was taken on his 22 nd birthday. His hair was clean and shiny, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips, like he just couldn’t help it. The sharp edges of his cheek bones cut through the poor lighting and made him look edgier. He achieved in his mugshot what rock artists hope they’ll look like on the cover of _Rolling Stone._  

Beside it was the much larger wanted poster that had been plastered _everywhere_ when he escaped prison. This picture was an updated one. The shiny hair had evolved into a matted, dirty mess. The hollow of his cheeks which looked sexy before now made him look sick. He was the wrong kind of skinny. I thought of him in the Shrieking Shack the first time we met, looking exactly like this picture, how he didn’t acknowledge me but his eyes flickered to mine and I could read his pain. I could read the love and the pain in his body when he looked at me and when he looked at Harry but there was something bigger than us urging him forward.

That something bigger turned out to be a little rat named Peter Pettigrew.

When I was growing up my mother talked to me about my dad all the time. The good and the bad, the shiny and the ugly, and she would hint…just hint… that there was something we all didn’t know about my dad’s imprisonment. I can remember Remus sitting me down privately and making sure I knew that my dad was guilty and that my mom still has a very hard time accepting that but, just because we want something to be true doesn’t mean it can be.

And I remember the rats.

My mum would sing them out of their holes, out of the sewers, out of the trees and ring their necks and go about her day. You can imagine my terror when she found out about Scabbers. She was having tea with Mrs. Weasley when Ron and Percy began arguing about their pet. Percy felt that Scabbers new owner was not taking the responsibility of caring for him seriously.

“You have a pet rat, Ron?” My mother said sweetly.

“Yes and he’s boring. All he does is sleep!”

“Awe I bet he’s cute, can I see him?”

Before she even finished her sentence I had snuck upstairs. Panic flooding my 10 year old heart. I ripped open the door to Ron’s room and whispered to Scabbers, who was asleep on the windowsill, to run.

“She’ll get you Scabbers! Hide! Don’t let Ron find you!”

And every time my mom was at the house she would ask Ron to see Scabbers or I would catch her trying to lure Scabbers out with her magic and every time Scabbers resisted.

You can imagine how much I regret that now.

Nineteen people in these picture frames are dead. Most of them have been dead for years. My eyes skimmed over a picture of my mother, Lily, and Marlene dressed to the nines on a London street, Regulus Black holding me as a baby, Mum with a black dog laying across her legs, Fabian Prewett doing a keg stand with his brother holding his ankles, and landed on a more recent picture with my favorite person in it.

George Weasley in a chair on my front porch pulling me into his lap. We’re both wearing Weasley sweaters. His, a plain black one with a gold ‘G’. Mine an old one from when I was very young in classic maroon, cut off at the midriff by me in an attempt to bring it back to life. His fingers are pressed into the bare skin of my waist as we hold still and smile for the camera. The photo snaps and we relax into each other’s arms, laughing and talking before the loop repeats again.

I smiled and thought back to the night before he and Fred busted out of Hogwarts. I had been in my dorm room talking with Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati when Alicia and Angelina entered our dorm.

“Astridddddddd” Angelina had teased. “George is asking for you.”

“He can wait.” I said.

“I think you want to go talk to him.” Alicia teased further. “Seems urgent.”

George and I had gone on our first real date this school year. Oddly enough the closer we got to actually dating the more distance we gave each other. The kisses and touches we used to hand out to each other for free, we now saved for the times they would actually mean something. I loved it and hated it in equal measure.

I descended the staircase and my heart pounded when he came into view. Tall and broad and freckly and waiting for _me._

“There she is.” He said softly, gathering me into his arms and leaning us both against the wall. He pressed his lips into my shoulder and the Veela was screaming. He had never been like this before: gentle, and calm, and smoky. We are both the rough, earnest, instant gratification type.

“We’re leaving tomorrow.” He whispered in my ear. I let the warm weight of his body leaning against mine comfort me. I wanted to remember how he felt next week when I was dying to touch him.

“I’m so proud of you.” I whispered. I traced the bony end of his collarbone that stuck out of the neck of his shirt with my fingertip.

“I want to be yours.” He said, lips on my jaw. I said nothing because the Veela was hyper-focused on the half inch of his pinky that had slipped past the hem of my shirt and was now touching the skin of my lower back. “Don’t agree if you can’t do it.”

“I can do it.” I insisted. “I want to be yours, too.”

The next day they made their grand exit. The fireworks were my favorite. The creativity was amazing. I watched a heart with a cupid’s arrow through it whiz by with the legend “GW + AB 4E” and thought _‘and Mrs. Weasley says they have no ambition.’_

Being with George was better than I imagined. Being _in_ _love_ was better than I imagined. It made me wonder what I thought I would miss out on if I was tied down before.

But there was a downside to all this.

Right now the summer stretched endlessly out in front of us. Days that were made for he and I. But, September 1st would eventually come and I would return to school and he would not. George is an adult now, a real one, who pays his bills, and owns a business, and doesn’t live with Mummy. What if this school year made the 1 year and 9 month age difference between us feel more like 10?

 “Penny for your thoughts?” Mum asked, copying my position on the floor.

I told her what my stupid heart was going on about.

“You’ve been through this before. When you were 11 and they were 13. They didn’t want to play with babies anymore and you, Ron, and Ginny got closer that summer.”

“Not sure if that helps.” I answered.

“If George feels the age difference, you can and you will live your life without him as your boyfriend. He will never not be your friend, Astrid.”

“Will being his friend hurt after this?”

“Very much.” She said. “But it will get better.”

When I didn’t answer she said. “George isn’t a flavor of the week. He used to push whoever was on the swing next to you off so he could hold your hand.”

I let out a bark of a laugh. I remembered that. Not so much the sniffling child in the dirt but George climbing into the swing next to me and stretching out his hand. I would cup my palm in his and pump my legs furiously. We’d jump off at the top and land in the rocks with our hands still clasped.

“Live in the moment, darling. It’s what you’re good at.”

I got to my feet and stretched out my back. “I need another job.”

“Why?’ She laughed “You’re making money faster than you can spend it at the bar AND you’re on the twin’s payroll.”

“I can’t let Fred and George make more money than me.” I said pulling on my shoes. “and I really, really want a BMW.”

**Fred: We like having fun at other people’s expense.**

Contrary to popular belief, we didn’t fly our broomsticks all the way to London. We don’t discourage the rumors though. Legends are made, not born, after all. We did fly them until we physically couldn’t anymore, rolling and dipping and whooping in our freedom. We did it. We really fucking did it.

George and I slept on the floor of our empty apartment in sleeping bags until we could afford beds. We knew going back to the burrow would be suicidal so, the hardwood floor seemed softer than it was when the only other option was death. An owl from Celine came the very next morning letting us know if we didn’t tell our mother we were safe she would owl her the address of the shop. That Celine, she was cool until she wasn’t. She did have a point though, our mum deserved better than to be ghosted right now.

Opening day got off to a slow start. Most of our clientele were in school still. A couple shoppers came in curiously on their lunch break. Celine came in with a bagged lunch which she ate on our counter. I slipped a canary cream in her burrito when she went to the loo and was delighted when she turned into a canary in front of 3 young boys who then begged their mother to let them buy some.

“I’m more of a fox than a canary.” She grimaced as George rang the young trouble makers up.

“You got us our first sale though.”

“I’m proud of you both.” She smiled.

Bill came in shortly after she returned to work. He looked around the shop and let out a long, low whistle.

“Mum is gonna kill youuuuu.” He teased.

The owl order service is really what kept us going until school let out. The first day of summer vacation we were _slammed_. Astrid was banging on the door to the shop 15 minutes before we opened.

“Alright, alright, keep your pants on.” I said, tapping the lock with my wand.

She had cups of coffee and donuts from the cart in front of the bank. “I’m here to work.”

“We’ve been pretty slow.” George said, dipping her down and kissing her.

“You won’t be today.” She said when he released her. “ _Trust me_.”

“We can’t pay you.” I said selecting a powdered donut.

“You can repay me in favors.” She said coyly, pouting her lips and batting her eyes at George.

“Looks like I’m off the hook then.” I said “knock yourself out”

Thank Rowena Ravenclaw she showed up.

We could finally afford beds. I laid down in my bedroom that night and I immediately realized I had never had my own bedroom. I was overwhelmed with feelings I didn’t even know I had. Were rooms always this dark? Who do you talk to before you go to sleep? Who do you throw a pillow at when they snore too loud? HOW DO PEOPLE EXIST ALONE. I wondered what George was doing.

I was just about to go knock on his door when there was a knock on the door of the flat. George’s footsteps hurried to answer it and I heard the familiar giggle of Astrid.

OF COURSE.

I berated myself for being a dolt as their footsteps shuffled into George’s bedroom and the door shut again.

George and I have been dreaming about the day we wouldn’t have to sneak girls past our parents, siblings, and roommates our whole lives and here I was wallowing in feelings wondering what the fuck to do. No more rolling over pretending to be asleep while George and Astrid made out. No more climbing up into second floor windows. No more hiding in closets when parents knock on doors. Having your own room is _awesome._

I sent a quick “what you doing?” To Angelina and was rewarded with the sound of the floo minutes after. An indeterminate amount of time later we were under my covers talking quietly. The glow from London seeping in through the window. Angelina’s very muscular thigh was wrapped over my own and I was absentmindedly fiddling with a bead in her hair.

“OI!” George said, knocking on our shared wall. “Is that Angelina in there?”

“Yes. Is that the girl from the pub last night in there?” Astrid gasped and what sounded like a wrestling match ensued. Angelina chuckled and nuzzled into my chest. Yes, having our own rooms would do nicely.

We got our first reminder shortly after that there was indeed a war still going on.

Celine was letting us go furniture ‘shopping’ at her house. We may have beds but not much else. An old transfigured fireworks crate was currently serving as our couch.

“I’ll take the piano and the Chesterfield” I said stroking my chin and looking around the living room. “As well as any vintage wine you have in the cellar.”

Celine chuckled “If the piano could fit in your apartment Fred I would give it to you.” She said, pinching my cheek. “I’ve got some boxes of linens for you guys here as well.” We decided on some end tables and the sofa in the sunroom that had seen better days.

“Better than what we have now right?” George commented, pulling at a stray thread.

“Yep plus I touched my first boob on this couch it might belong with us.”   

I patted the couch affectionately and looked out the bay window.

“Oh shit we’ve got company.” I said. Celine and Astrid rushed into the room.

“That’s Rookwood and Yaxley.” Celine said. “Come on, go to the cellar, hurry.” Astrid led the way and Celine kept an eye on the death eaters who were now walking up the steps. “Cookie, cellar!” She whispered. We padded down the stairs and the sound of the massive metal locks grinding into place was covered by the sound of the front door blasting off it’s hinges.

“Knock Knock.” One of the men said.

_Rookwood._ Celine mouthed.

I looked around the cellar for hiding places, my wand gripped tight in my hand. The room was almost completely empty. There were deep scratches in the metal of the door and the banister had been completely chewed apart.

“What the fuck do you keep down here?” I whispered.

“Remus.” She whispered back, glaring at me.

The Death Eaters were moving about the house now. We watched in silence as their feet cut across the light coming in from under the door.

“Astrid you have to get rid of them.” Celine said her breath short and choppy.

“What! No, I can’t mum. You do it, please!”

“You can! You are so good at it darling.” They held each other’s gaze, communicating in ways we would never understand.

“Ok, ok ummm…change my clothes give me ummm…” Astrid flapped her hands trying to think and relieve stress. “Give me like sexy librarian.”

Celine waved her wand and Astrid’s casual clothes turned into a very low cut top and a very tight pencil skirt. Her hair blew out behind her and hung in mussed waves.

George opened the cellar window and I bent down and cupped my hands. She placed her perfect foot in  my palm and then George’s. We gave her a push and she slid easily through the window. George handed her stilettos up and whispered ‘be careful.’

“You three look like that wasn’t the first time you’ve done that.” Celine said, unamused.

“We’ve been in tight spots before” I said throwing her a wink.

Celine cast a patronus and her fox snuck stealthily out the window and away. “I sent that to Moody.” She said. “Just in case.”

A moment later we heard Astrid’s voice but it was very, very different.

“Who do we have here?” She sounded ethereal. Silky smooth and musical but there was something eerie about it. Like poison you don’t know is in your cup.

Her heels clicked slowly and smoothly against the floor.

“Well hello.” Yaxley said. “Where’d you come from, love?”

Astrid said nothing, just kept approaching the two men.

“Might be our lucky day.” Rookwood said to his friend.

“It just might be.” Astrid said slowly, letting each word hang in the air. 

The next thing we heard was two large bodies hit the ground and seize. When their bodies stopped shaking Astrid opened the cellar door.

“I’m not cleaning this up.” She declared, dusting off her hands.

“Remind me never to fuck with you.” I said, grabbing her face and giving her a loud kiss on her cheek.

**Tonks: Don’t let it burn, don’t let it fade.**

I’ve never been the type of girl who couldn’t take a hint.

But Remus Lupin has three decades of walls built up around himself and a deep rooted belief that he doesn’t deserve to be happy and he’s a right arse when he wants to be.

Or at least that’s what my cousin’s wife says.

And while I’m talking about Celine I might as well admit that my feelings towards her are complicated at the mo’. Mostly because she has been in a relationship in one way or another with the man I love for most of her life.

Also, I know how Remus feels about me, and this is not it. So how can I let this go? How can I not ignore him when he insists we aren’t right for each other. Especially when I have Celine in my ear whispering that he’s lying.

I met Remus at my very first order meeting.  He arrived with Celine and a big, black dog. Celine beamed when she saw me and gave me a crushing hug.

“I’m so proud of you Tonks.” She whispered in my ear.

“Is Astrid jealous that I get to be in the order?” I asked.

“Absolutely dead with jealousy. ‘Mummy but TONKS gets to be in it! She and I can stick together!’ Like you haven’t been training to be a bad ass the last three years or something. Oh Remus this is Sirius’ cousin Tonks, Andromeda’s girl.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” He said shaking my hand and smiling softly at me. My first thought of him was that he looked like a librarian. My second thought was that he was fit for an old guy. The dog they had brought was jumping on me and trying to lick my face.

“He’s very obedient but, can be pretty sarcastic.” Remus said to me. I chuckled but didn’t really get the joke. I mingled with some of the other members while we waited on Dumbledore and didn’t really give any more thought to Remus aside from thinking it was nice to finally have a face to put with the ‘step-father’ Astrid always talked about.

Dumbledore welcomed us and opened the meeting with a note on Sirius Black. When the crowd had seemingly exhausted all their questions, doubts, concerns, and possible plot twists, Dumbledore gestured to the dog that had been resting under Celine’s chair since the start of the meeting.

The dog then promptly turned into said escaped criminal.

Dumbledore called us all back to order and Sirius took the seat in between Remus and Celine. My old headmaster droned on and on and I felt like I was stuck in class again. I slumped in my seat, head in my hand when out of the corner of my eye I saw Sirius lean forward and whisper something in Remus’ ear and Remus snickered like a mischievous school boy.

It was in that moment that Remus changed from old librarian to mysteriously sweet and sexy man I would really like to get to know, in my mind.

When I left the order meeting my head swam with images of Remus. As I lay in bed that night I suddenly burst out laughing when I remembered his joke about his dog being very sarcastic. Celine invited me to the pub with her, Remus, and Sirius the next day and I couldn’t respond yes fast enough. I was nervous and excited and knocking things over worse than usual.

I arrived at the pub and my stomach swooped so violently at the sight of Remus I had to double check that my hair hadn’t shifted brown to match his. Celine was there and the stranger whose hands were comfortably on her hips was hopefully Sirius disguised with Polyjuice Potion.

They cheered loudly when I entered the pub.

“There you are!” Remus said, squeezing me to his side where I speedily stroked out.

“This here is my date, Tommy Muggleman.” Celine said trying and failing not to giggle through her words.

“Wotcher, Tonks.” He joked with me.

Remus signaled to the bartender and a pint was placed in front of me, which I immediately knocked over. The bartender frowned at me but poured me another. Remus was smiling at me.

And I smiled back.

And we talked and talked and talked and laughed and Sirius yelled at Remus that it wasn’t very punk rock of him to talk to the same girl all night. To which Remus replied that he stopped caring about being punk rock after he turned 30 anyway. To which I replied that I have at least seven more years to go then and that was when Remus spit his drink out in shock.

Remus asked what my first name was and I said “I’ll tell you but don’t call me Nymphadora”

“Don’t-Call-Me-Nymphadora is a very unusual first name. I can see why you prefer Tonks.” Sirius mused. “I feel very fortunate I have a boring Christian name like Thomas.”

“Don’t-Call-Me-Nymphadora is rather a mouthful.” Remus said. “What if Tommy and I shortened it to Nymphadora…would that work?”

“NO” I fumed. Hair blooming red as the ‘men’ cackled.

I knocked over a barstool, spilled two more drinks, tripped on the pavement out front, and _almost_ walked into a lamp post. And Remus didn’t tease me once or, make me feel stupid, or like I had something to apologize for. He just picked up the barstool, got me more drinks, held out his hand to help me up, and yanked me out of the way when that lamp post jumped in front of me.

I was absolutely done for.

One evening at Grimmauld Place, Celine was missing Astrid and asked me to grow my hair long so she could braid it. I relaxed in my chair and enjoyed the feeling of her fingers in my hair when I suddenly asked her “are you upset with me?”

She knew exactly what I was talking about.

“No, darling.” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders from her place behind me and said in my ear, “I have been praying for Remus to fall in love for a very long time.” She hugged me hard and I felt how much she loved me.

“Will you tell me…about you two?”

“He was my first boyfriend, my first everything. He was my everything. I thought I was very much in love with him. But he knew. He knew we weren’t in love and he dumped me. We are very bad for each other. We both are prone to depression and angst and sullenness. We both hate being part human and the shame of it consumes us if we let it.” She paused here and poured two glasses of wine.

“Sirius and I fell in love and I knew what it was that Remus was talking about when he said we weren’t. Because I feel with Sirius what you felt with Remus at the pub all those weeks ago.”

I smiled at the memory and felt my cheeks pink.

“But history played out the way it did and you need to know that Remus Lupin is still my everything. More importantly, he is everything to _Astrid_. Remus has been my superhero since James and Lily died and Sirius was imprisoned. My only hope in life is that I have been as much of a friend, a rock, a support that he has been to me.”

“Where you guys together when Sirius was in Azkaban?”

“Emotionally, Remus was my husband, and the father to my child. Intimately, Remus was not and I wish I was a good enough person to claim that was all my doing.”

Fast forward to the present and Remus was pushing me away and ignoring me every chance he got which is how I wound up at Molly’s kitchen table with her and Celine and a cup of tea.

I didn’t know Celine would be here. Sirius was gone and Remus was ignoring me and living with her and she was _gorgeous_ and _graceful_ and his age which apparently matters to him and they have truck loads of history. Then I remembered what Remus told me when I wore my hair long and blonde to dinner once.

“Veela magic effects women too.” He said seriously. “It creates jealousy, makes you doubt, makes you want to lash out.” I had squirmed uncomfortably at that.

“Why do you think her only women friends since Lily and Marlene were killed have been Molly, Narcissa Malfoy, and your mother?”

“Because Molly has too many kids to worry about and the Black sisters are the only people whose self esteem is that delusionally high?”

“Correct.” He said through a laugh. “She’s not the most beautiful woman I know anyway.” He continued, looking everywhere but at me. I kissed him right then. I could still remember what his beautiful hands felt like on my neck and the way the rough scar on his lip was surrounded by softness.

“Excuse me…Um…your table is ready.” The hostess awkwardly announced.

It was the most perfect kiss of my life.

I squirmed with guilt at my internal feelings towards Celine while I relayed my most recent failure at knocking some sense into Remus Lupin. A failure that left me utterly destroyed and completely heartbroken.

“He came home drunk and talked about you for two hours straight.” Celine said her gaze overwhelming me. “I told him he was an asshole and an idiot. And he goes ‘I know.’”

Molly tsked and rolled her eyes. “He’s very hard on himself, isn’t he?”

We both nodded. Just then, Harry and Dumbledore entered the house. I could tell I had lost my audience to a boy who needed some motherly attention so I said my goodbyes.  

Out front, behind Arthur’s shed, I sobbed silently for a long time after.

  **Ron: I’m beginning to notice how much this feels like a waking limb.**

Thank Gryffindor Harry will be coming soon because I cannot stand one more minute of being trapped in this house with all these bloody females.

Fred and George no longer live here and Dad was mostly at work or doing things for the order so, since school let out it’s been Ginny, mum, Fleur, Astrid, Celine and I. Then Hermione came but that made it worse because she’s a different kind of female entirely, innit she?

It also doesn’t help that for some reason everyone in my life has suddenly become obsessed with snogging.

Fleur constantly has her tongue down Bill’s throat. Astrid and George can’t keep their hands off each other. My freaking MUM AND DAD are spending way too much time saying goodbye to each other when dad goes on missions. While Ginny was writing a letter to someone (at the kitchen table WHERE WE EAT) and blushing up a storm one afternoon Celine turned to me and said

“Don’t worry Ron, I’m not currently kissing anyone either.”

Merlin’s fucking Beard.

Astrid showed up the day before Hermione did with an overnight bag. I hid out in my room most of the day and I told myself it was because I wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of Astrid’s teasing today. A few hours after dinner I heard Ginny’s door open and close and Astrid skip up the stairs.

She rapped her knuckles repeatedly on the door.

“Bloody hell come in!”

She plopped down on the floor, back against my dresser and pulled her long legs up to her chest.

“Surprised you’re spending a night away from George.” I muttered.

“I want to be here when Hermione gets here.” She said sweetly. “And who said I’m spending the night away from George.”

I didn’t question her further. She makes me nauseous.

“Ron.” She started. Staring me down.

“What.”

“You have got to lighten up.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not you are crawling out of your own skin.”

That is rather what it feels like.

“You need to do some kissing.”

I snorted. “Who am I gonna kiss then?”

“Who do you want to kiss?” Giving me a look that clearly said we both know who came to mind.

I shrugged her off. Which was probably a mistake.

“I’ve told you before Ron I’d be _happy_ to give you some practice.” Oh bloody hell here we go. She was crawling across the floor towards me and I was already struck dumb by her magic.

“Maybe a few pointers.” Her voice purred. I fell over onto my back and she was right above me. Her knees on either side of my hips and her hands on either side of my head. Like she could straddle me or strangle me and either would be fine with her.

I’m such an ass. I can never tell when she stops being my friend and starts being the veela. She catches me by surprise every time.

“George wouldn’t like…” I started to say but her gaze silenced me.

“Georgie wouldn’t like what little bro?” My brother was framed in my doorway and his girlfriend was on top of me.

“George!” Astrid exclaimed, jumping to her feet and folding herself into his arms. She peppered him with kisses and they left me lying on the ground. Not a minute later Astrid returned, slightly out of breath from all the stairs.

“Ron you are more attractive than you give yourself credit for.”

“Can we stop this.” I groaned.

“No.” She said. “You are really tall. Girls like that. You’re funny. Girls like that. You have the prettiest blue eyes and a smile that lights up your whole face. Not to mention you have the kind of big, strong hands that make a girl wonder what it feels like to be held by them, by _you.”_

I said nothing but I could feel her staring at me.

“Anddd whether it’s true or not the old adage ‘big hands need big wands’ would never work against you and girls _really_ like that.”

“Astrid get out!” I said throwing a pillow at her. She giggled wickedly and left but I called her back almost instantly.

“Thanks.” I said grumpily.

The next morning I apologized to George.

“Don’t be bro.” He said, supervising his razor as it shaved his face. “We all know you are particularly susceptible to her brand of magic.” He winked.

“Why do you put up with her?” I asked. “How do you put up with her?”

“You mean how do I put up with a charming, wild, edgy, funny, brilliant, independent woman. Hmm not sure.”

“Fine how do you put up with her flirting and teasing _everyone._ ”

“Because I know I’m King.” He wiped his face with the towel on the door, took one look at my confused face and continued “I can see I’ve lost you. Astrid’s flirtatious manner does not bother me because I know I am number one. I know without a doubt that she will always pick me.”

I sighed deeply and went to go downstairs and wait for Hermione with Astrid and Ginny.

“Hey Ron.”

“Yea?”

“Astrid’s your friend, remember? Hasn’t particularly seemed like it lately. Why don’t you do some kissing once Granger gets here. Lighten up.”

My face burned bright red and he shut the door on my protests and denials.

Hermione arrived and my first instinct when she made to hug me was to jump away. I’m really not equipped to deal with the confusing feelings she stirs up. I hung in there though because I love when she throws her arms madly around your neck and her wild mane suffocates you.

I am so not ready for this. For anything to do with her.

I want a time turner to take me back to simpler days.

A few days later, it was raining like mad and boredom was plaguing the house. Astrid had just written that she would like to come through the floo if it was alright and I searched the house for Hermione and Ginny to let them know.

“Who was your first kiss then, Tonks?” I overheard Hermione say.

“Andre Egwu.” She said. I was frozen in the doorway. I heard the Floo spring to life and Astrid smacked my butt cheek as she walked by.

“What are we talking about?” She asked flopping down on the couch and stretching her legs onto Ginny’s lap.

“First kisses.” Tonks said. “Who was yours?”

“Geroge Weasley when I was like 8.”

“That doesn’t count!” Tonks argued.

“Fine. George Weasley when I was 12.”

The girls laughed. “That excellent then?” Tonks asked.

“Absolutely and from what I understand the Weasleys have quite the talent for kissing.”

Ginny gagged. “Ew.”

“You’re included in that Weaslette.” Astrid teased.

My turn to gag.

“I was so shocked when Percy nabbed himself a girlfriend I tracked Penelope down and asked her to rate Percy’s kissing skills on a scale of 1-10 and she gave him A NINE.”

Ginny and Hermione were laughing so hard they were pink.

“My first kiss was Michael Corner.” Ginny said.

“He gave you an eight.” Astrid said.

“I ranked lower than _Percy?!”_

“It’s a subjective scale Ginny.” Hermione said placatingly.

“Ron are you going to join us or just stand there.” Tonks teased.

Her voice unfroze me. “No. I don’t like where this is going. At all.” The girls laughter followed me all the way to the garden where I asked mum when Harry is coming.

“Soon dear.” She said looking at me the way Mum’s only can. She pulled me into a hug and I found myself hugging her back. She patted my cheek and I realized this was one of the few times in my life I had her all to myself.

Harry did come soon and gave the girls something to talk about other than lips. Having a teammate did wonders for my mood and I was feeling more and more like my old self again.

We were dying to see Fred and George’s shop. Astrid would come over with a bag full of stuff for us to pick from.

“We need to stockpile before school starts.” She insisted.

We went to Diagon with Mum and Celine. Walking into the shop was like walking into a zoo where the monkeys had escaped and decided to throw a party. A very large crowd of boys was off to our right. I nudged Harry “What do you reckon their looking at?”

“Dunno.” He said. I craned my neck but couldn’t see what they were looking at. The crowd parted and there was _Astrid_. She was carrying a tray full of smoking potions and she was wearing a uniform of sorts but, it definitely wasn’t what the other girl was wearing.

Her bright orange shirt clung to her body in a dizzying way that made you wonder if there was one part of her that didn’t curve perfectly. High waisted purple shorts accentuated her peachy backside. Green suspenders rested over her shoulders and I was completely absorbed by the two inches of bare skin between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her shorts.

“Do you like my socks?” She said brightly showing off a bright pair with the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes logo on them. One was orange and one was purple and they were pulled up to her calves. I felt like I did whenever I caught a guy making eyes at my sister.

“Dobby would love them.” Harry said laughing. Is he mad? Astrid is supposed to be like a sister to him. “Are you mad!” I yelled at her. “Put some clothes on!”

“If you’ve got a problem with the way she is dressed. You can just not look at her.” Celine said so darkly and dangerously that I whimpered.

“Yes don’t upset her.” George said, appearing at my side.

“She’s a goldmine.” Fred continued.

“You wouldn’t believe how much product you can sell to teenage boys with these boobs and this ass.” Astrid unnecessarily pointed to those body parts for emphasis.

“And it’s not just the blokes, the witches fall for it too.” Fred started.

“Give Astrid a tray full of Wonder Witch products and the girls can’t buy it fast enough.” George finished.

Astrid was swarmed by another wave of drooling idiots so the twins promptly showed us around the shop.

Naturally, we saw Draco Malfoy sneaking around and had to follow him. More distressingly, when we got out of the shop under the cloak Astrid came running out not a minute after. She must not have seen us leave because we only just got out of her way as she sprinted down the street.

“Draco!” She called. He turned into a side alley to wait for Astrid. Harry hurried us along.

“-you have us.” We caught her saying.

Draco shrugged at her words “this is my life now and honestly, I’m into it.” Palms open to her like he had nothing else to offer. His voice was different. It was kind.

“Mum and I are worried.”

“You don’t need to be.” He said nose back in the air. Ah, there’s the git.

“We miss you cuz…and your mum. We miss our family.”

“I don’t know that we are family anymore.” He said.

Astrid gave him a small smile. “You’ll always be family to us.”

“We shouldn’t be seen talking out here. Dangerous for us both.”

“Right.” She conceded.

“If he wants, join him. We can be safe together.”

Astrid’s bark like laughter carried down the high street and Malfoy’s face soured. “I think we have different ideas of what the word safe means.”

We followed Malfoy and I could tell Harry was mad.

On the way back to the twin’s shop we saw Astrid buying a coffee at the cart and Harry ducked out from under the cloak.

“Are you on our side or not!” Harry bellowed at her.

“What the fuck are you talking about.” She asked sipping her iced latte.

“We were under the cloak and we saw you talking to Malfoy.” Harry hissed so quietly Astrid had to lean in.

“And?”

“and what do you know about him that you aren’t telling us?”

“Nothing. I can’t talk to my cousin?”

“ _Cousin”_ Harry spat. “He is the _enemy.”_

Astrid’s face fell and I stepped in before she could throw her drink at Harry.

“Stop Harry.” I said.

“You’re on her side?” He accused.

“I’m on her side on this. You’re attacking her. You’re attacking our best friend.”

“For consorting with Malfoy!”

“She has an entirely different relationship with him than we do Harry!” Hermione jumped in. “You can’t choose your family!”

“You heard her!” He said.

“I heard her being _nice._ ” I said. “Just because you don’t think she should be nice to him doesn’t mean ass.”

He stormed off back into the shop.

“Thanks” Astrid whispered, squeezing my hand.

But I was looking at Hermione, who was beaming at me.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celine: Paint it Black- The Rolling Stones  
> Astrid: Mad Hatter- Melanie Martinez  
> Fred: Fat Lip- Sum 41  
> Tonks: Linger- The Cranberries  
> Ron: Nice to Know You- Incubus


	3. The Summer We Learned about Patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out Isabelle_Staub on Instagram! She has a fan art of Debbie Thornberry and if this isn't Astrid I don't know what is https://www.instagram.com/p/BXBxY3YhwRP/?taken-by=isabelle_staub
> 
> Enjoy!

**REMUS: I am seeing in me now the things you swear you saw yourself.**

I told myself I would never have this moment.

The moment where you wrap yourself around the person you love and your anxieties and worries and fears just stop because that persons very presence is enough to calm every nerve and soothe every ache. I would never feel fingers through my hair and a caring hand pressed against my cheek, or arms squeezed tight around my waist and an ear pressed against my heart from _the person._

This person.

Nymphadora Tonks.

And I got this moment, the one I never thought I would have, because I finally let go. I finally stopped fighting and I was able to do it because she didn’t give up on me. She made me feel like I was worth the fight.

And now, hours after what the history books would call the battle of the Astronomy tower, we were in her flat sharing the weight of the events of the night. Here, with her arms around my hips and my hand in her brilliantly pink hair I felt peace.

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss me which I found incredibly endearing and my chronically heavy heart lightened.

“I need a shower.” She said.

“I do too.”

This wasn’t the first time I was naked with her but, it was the first time with the lights on. Familiar waves of self-loathing coursed through me at half their usual intensity. I was all in now. I wanted to hold her and care for her in the delightfully hot water and I wanted to feel her do the same for me. I massaged shampoo into her scalp and delighted in the birth mark on her lower back that I had never seen before.

“This is you, right?” I asked as my hands lathered soap across her shoulders. “No metamorphosing?”

“All me.” She answered.

“Good.”

I’ve never experienced intimacy with someone like this. Touching that wasn’t necessarily leading somewhere but, was definitely leading everywhere. I closed my eyes as her hands soaped my chest. I don’t like watching people looking at my scars. But I opened them again pretty quickly because I didn’t feel that tight feeling in the back of my throat. She _was_ looking at them but I suppose if someone wanted to look at me, looking at the scars was something that couldn’t be helped.

Tonks definitely wanted to look at me.  

I turned around and she washed my back. She gently ran her nails up and down a few times before planting kisses along my spine. Her hands made me feel like a boy and a man at the same time. I pulled her to me and let my hands trace her pear shape. We had all the time we wanted. I pushed her up against the tile and she wrapped her legs around me. She was the perfect height for kissing now and she took full advantage. I liked my strength for the first time.

She rolled her hips against me and kissed me feverishly. I didn’t want to wait any longer either but, before either of us could make any moves the water turned ice cold.

We screamed and laughed and clung to each other as I reached over to turn the tap off. Little droplets clung to her eyelashes and nose and dripped from the short ends of her hair.

“I love you.” I said because I couldn’t wait another minute.

“I love you, too.” She confirmed. And we jumped into bed and carried on what we had started and in the morning I woke up smiling and pulled her and the covers close to me. And every terrible day that summer was made sweeter because of her. Everyday I was sharing another part of me with her and she was loving me still. By the end of June I was in dress robes that used to be Sirius’ watching Dora walk towards me on her father’s arm. Andromeda, Celine, and Astrid were lined up in the front row and Mad-Eye insisted on guarding the door. Kingsley got a marriage certification especially for this and I had tears in my eyes by the time Ted took his seat.

I was married. Me! Of all the people in this world.

July was a dream and I still woke up wondering what I did to deserve all this happiness. On a rainy day in August, Dora flew into the living room and jumped onto my lap. She hugged and kissed me and announced she was pregnant as she wiped happy tears from her eyes that were my own shade of hazel.

What the fuck have I done.

**CELINE** : **I don’t want to wake up from this tonight.**

My eyes blinked open and I let out a very irritated groan. I rolled over and buried myself under my pillows and blankets the way Astrid does. I dreamt of Sirius again and reality is not where I like to live. More nights than not, Sirius appeared so lucidly I could sometimes feel his warmth. Terribly handsome teenaged Sirius, Sirius on his motorcycle, nightmares of Sirius in Azkaban, black dogs, the list goes on…last night it had been all about Sirius and those tattoos. The prison ink that stretched across the planes of his abdomen in the shitty shade of black that can only be achieved by using the wrong kind of ink. In this case regular old quill ink. The type of ink you’d write a letter to a loved one with.

The new ones, the ones he got the year he was on the run. The blonde siren down his forearm gazing up at Canis Major and Leo and their brightest stars. The rugged antlers surrounded by a wreath of feminine lilies. The phases of the moon. After a heated debate and a unanimous decision ‘Love and Loyalty’ replaced ‘Tojours Pur’ as the New Black Family Motto (or at least this Black family’s motto) and Sirius naturally snuck out of Grimmauld Place to get it permanently etched between his hips. Like a promise in tattoo script right before I unbuttoned his jeans.

Then there were the originals. My lipstick kiss with my name underneath on his ass cheek he got on a dare. The crown for Astrid. The phoenix feather he and James got down their thoracic spine and Lily freaked when she saw it.

My dream of him was too real. Too close. I stretched my arm out across my bed half thinking my fingers would touch warm skin. I found nothing but sheets and I pulled my blankets off me in anger. The curved ceiling of the gypsy tent Astrid and I were living in greeted me.

Shortly after the battle at the Astronomy tower I was fired from my job. Pius Thicknesse was in my boss’ office when I was called there. He thanked me for my fifteen years of service as an Unspeakable, highlighted my accomplishments in the study of love and curtly let me know that my kind were no longer welcome at the Ministry. My boss nodded sadly behind him.

I went home and Astrid, Cookie, and I packed our things that night. I learned from the first war to read the signs early. The Burrow was the safe house now and it was already full so, Astrid and I erected a tent on the front lawn. She transfigured feather pillows into circular mattresses that were _so_ soft. She draped our beds in quilts and pillows in neutrals and golds. Sheer gold curtains shimmered across the entrance and sensuously tickled your skin as the summer breeze blew in. Our energy pooled here. Our magic creeped passed the curtains and curled in the grass like a snake waiting to bite whoever got too close.

Not even a year ago, being in this tent would have been unbearable to me. But when my mother came to Grimmauld place, she told me about an ability that Veela have. An ability I knew nothing about but if Astrid and I could do it, we would be quite a force to be reckoned with in battle. This ability was one I could get on board with. An ability that had nothing to do with lust or sex or deception and everything to do with anger.  

Nevertheless, if I wanted to be able to perform this magic,  I now had to make peace with being a Veela. It’s been very, very hard but something about this tent made it easier. Something about Astrid made it easier. I was taking myself less seriously. Cutting myself a little more slack.

It’s funny, apparently Remus Lupin was loving himself a little more these days as well. You might think being apart is what gave us permission to live.

**MOLLY: Even when I’m a mess, I still put on my vest.**

“Go to bed I mean it!” I hollered up the stairs at Ronald’s bedroom door. He, Hermione, and Ginny had been up there too long and I knew they were up to things that would break their mother’s heart. I stretched my back and picked up a sock that had been dropped on the stairs. My heart pounded in my chest as it often did these days. Cookie appeared at my side and took the sock from my hand.

“Bed, Molly Weasley.” She said, guiding me to my own door.

I love this elf.

I breathed deep and tried not to think about my husband and the twins transfiguring the ghoul to look like my baby boy with Spattergoit.  Tried not to think about Ginny going back to Hogwarts and what that would mean. I breathed out how fed up I was with Fleur Delacour and Charlie taking weeks to answer my letters and wedding planning and You-Know-Who and whatever he was up to. I pushed open my bedroom door and Arthur was already in bed, the Evening Prophet in his hand and two steaming cups of Chamomile on his end table.

“Ready for a cuppa, Molly?” He asked. His lips smiling around the “ly” in my name just like they always have.

Sharp laughter rang through our open window. Quick and intense like the bark of a dog.

And then there was Astrid.

I took the cup from Arthur and peered out the window. Astrid and George were laying on their backs in the yard looking at the stars. How is it that _two_ of my sons fell in love with Veela?

But I wasn’t being fair.

I have never agreed with the way Celine raised Astrid. I certainly would never let Ginny run around with her belly button on display. But something about it just _worked_. As a child, Astrid was an absolute darling. In a house full of boys, she was the angel who would ask me to hold her after a nap. While my sons were bringing me gifts of mud cakes and lizards, Astrid would pick me dandelions or find the prettiest rock in the creek. I love her like my own but, It’s been hard watching George love her throughout the years. I’d be lying if I said I still wasn’t scared she’d break his heart.

 And now there was a war.

The last time, Arthur and I stuck our heads in the sand. We were unassuming purebloods and we had little to fear. We dug our heels in and powered on with our lives as we would have in the absence of war.

“what’s on your mind dear?” Arthur asked me.

“Too much.” I sighed.

On my nightstand was a picture of my brothers and me. I was fifteen, they were ten and nine and our mother had been dead five years by then. They knew the first time around that it was time to fight. They were brave enough to put love and family aside. I can still remember Fabian holding Bill and saying “someday this will be me Molly.”

The first time I met Celine she was not that much older than Astrid is now. She was wearing Sirius Black’s leather jacket and smoking a cigarette out front of my brother’s apartment. Marlene Mckinnon was tucked under Gideon’s arm. She smiled and introduced herself. Marlene did nothing of the sort. The next time I saw Celine she was pregnant and her eyes gazed into mine and I nodded in solidarity. Marlene was reading a book with her head on Fabian’s lap.

How could we know that we would lose our loved ones. How could we have known that her baby would love mine. How could we know that Lily’s would be destined to change the world and it would be him who convinced Arthur and I to fight this time. That it would be Harry Potter who made us braver.

 I settled under the covers and Arthur wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

“They were good men.” He said looking at the picture of my brothers with me.

“They were.” I agreed. “Their only mistake was getting mixed up with Mckinnon.”

“Merlin’s beard Molly it’s been years.” He chuckled.

“It would have been Fabian.” I said running my thumb along picture Fabian’s cheek. “Celine told me. Fabian loved her and Marlene as good as told them before she went into hiding she loved him back.” I wiped a tear from my eye. “Arthur, tell me we won’t lose anymore family.”

“I wish I could, dear.”

“I don’t want to sit here in twenty years wondering what could have been for our boys or Gi- Gi- Ginny!” I covered my eyes with my hands as I sobbed around Ginny’s name but Arthur pulled it down and held it tightly in his own. Our bodies sank against each other in that comfortably familiar way over twenty years of marriage gets you. When I came up for air he wiped my cheek and then his own and urged me to drink some tea.

“We weren’t any safer last time. We just told ourselves we were.” He said softly.

“Last time, our kids weren’t trying to fight.”

**ASTRID: Why should I care ‘bout a bad reputation anyway.**

I wasn’t allowed to go get Harry.

Everyone was going. Even _Fleur_ was going. But I wasn’t allowed to go because I couldn’t take Polyjuice Potion.

It was like second year all over again. Harry and Ron got to sneak into the Slytherin common room but I couldn’t because I’m a Veela and Polyjuice is strictly for _humans_.

This was the first mission we were actually allowed to be a part of, and I was missing it. Mrs. Weasley and I were in the living room. I was perched on the arm of the chair staring at the moon out of the living room window. Mrs. Weasley was knitting and both of us kept looking at the clock.

Mortal Peril. Just like every other day.

I stretched one leg to the floor and hugged my other leg to me, cheek on my knee, and watched Mrs. Weasley.

“Are you worried, dear?” She asked.

“Jealous.” I answered. “and worried too.” I crossed the living room and squeezed next to her on the sofa. Knees to chest, head on her shoulder just like when I was little. Mrs. Weasley was lovely to lay on. Warm and comforting and soft. My mum was muscular and angular and somehow our long legs always wound up tangled.

“When you’re on an adventure, you don’t think about the people waiting for you at home.” I said. “You worry about getting home safe to them but, you don’t think about them waiting and suffering. I think it’s harder to wait.”

“It’s much harder to wait.” She agreed. “But someone’s got to do it otherwise who would be here to welcome the adventurers home?”

I leaned against her more and smiled. “What are you knitting?”

“A sweater for you I’m tired of looking at your figure.” She teased. I pulled the waistband of my harem pants up over my chest.

“Much better.” She laughed.

Ginny came downstairs fresh from the shower. “Why on earth are you wearing your pants like that, Astrid?” She asked, toweling her hair.

“Your mum thinks I’m vulgar.”

“You are.”

I shrugged. Guilty as charged.

Then several people showed up one after the other and George Weasley was carried past me semi conscious and covered in blood.

My gut was in my throat. Fred was squeezing my shoulder so hard I would have a little round bruise the next morning the size of his thumb.

“Astrid?” George said after he stopped laughing at his own terrible joke.

“Yea?”

“Why are you wearing your pants like that?”

I looked down and in the chaos I hadn’t pulled my waistband back down to my actual waist. The crowd was raucous at my expense and I kissed George.

“That was my favorite ear you know”

“That was my first thought when Snape cursed it off ‘Damn, that was Astrid’s favorite ear. Now what am I going to do?”

George and I slept in his old bedroom that night. The first and only time Mrs. Weasley allowed anything like that to happen and we had to keep the door open.

“I’m an adult and an injured soldier whose mum makes him sleep with the door open when his girlfriend is over.”

I laughed and snuggled into his chest. “You might have bigger problems.”

“No kidding, my head is killing me.” He reached across me and drank the pain and healing potions on his nightstand. “I love you.”

“I love you.” We drifted off shortly after. Warm and safe after the sensational events of the evening.

Sometime near the witching hour George shook me awake.

“Are you alright?” I whispered, sitting upright. George was a wreck. He pulled me tight to him and was crying heavily into my shoulder.

“I’m here, I’m here.” I soothed, hugging him back just as hard. He was shaking and his ribcage strained against my arms every time he took a heaving breath.

“It-it’s _gone_. My ear is gone. He could have gotten my leg or my arm or cut my fucking head off. I could have di-“

“DON’T say it.” I said clapping my hand across his mouth. His brown eyes were panicked and desperate as they looked into mine. I removed my hand and kissed him hard. “You didn’t die.”

He shook his head and wiped his face with his palm. I held him until he fell asleep a long time later. When George was solidly asleep I crept downstairs and out to my tent and crawled in bed with my mom.

She stretched beautifully and asked me if everything was ok.

“I have to tell you something.” I said. “Before Dumbledore died. He told me not to go on the mission with Harry, Ron and Hermione. He said the Order needed me.”

She stroked the hair at my temple. “Why are you telling me now?”

“Because I wasn’t sure if I was going to listen to him or not.”

“Dumbledore told the Order we would know when it was time to allow you to join. I guess this is why he specifically said you.”

“Why does the Order need me, why do I need to stay?”

“The other three aren’t Veela are they.”

“Why is it always about Veela with you.” I snapped.

“Because when it comes to you and I, the only thing Dumbledore cares about is our Veela magic being used to fight Death Eaters.”

I knew in my heart she was right.

The morning of Bill and Fleur’s wedding I told Harry, Ron, and Hermione what Dumbledore said.

“If that’s how Dumbledore wanted it. That’s how it should be.” Harry said.

“Dumbledore is an idiot, WE need Astrid, forget about the bloody order.” Ron argued.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence Ron. If shit gets too bad you guys can always come back and get me.” I joked, adjusting my dress so it sat _just_ right on my chest. “Since us filthy half breeds aren’t allowed back at Hogwarts anyway you’ll know where to find me.” I sauntered from the room and searched for George.

I found him in the kitchen. “You’re evil.” He said “turn around let me get the view from the back.” I spun around and shimmied my hips. “So evil. How am I supposed to pick up Fleur’s Veela cousins with you looking good enough to eat.”

“Mmm promise?” I purred closing in for a kiss.

“Maybe.” He whispered, pulling away at the last second.

“You couldn’t pick up any Veela cousins anyway.” I poked.

“I bet I can.”

“I bet I can pick up two guys for every one Veela cousin you pick up.”

“You’re on.” He said. Sealing it with a kiss.

We had a blast. The wedding was beautiful. Everyone was there. The champagne was the good kind from France not the sparkling wine they sell here. George bee lined right for me the first dance. He still had the shoulders of a Beater and I shamelessly felt him up. When the last few bars of the song were played I pressed my body flat up against his and whispered in his good ear

 “Guess the Veela cousins already shot you down?”

“oh you are done Missy.” He said and he ran off to join Fred.

I danced for hours. With Luna and Ginny and Hermione and I peeked over my shoulder at George every time a man asked me to dance to make sure he was seeing this. A little thrill shot through my core every time he winked at me behind the back of the girl he was flirting with.

“You two are _impossible_.” Ginny said disbelievingly.

“I love to play games.” I said. “and so does he.”

“whatever gets you off.” She said chugging her glass of champagne. “Auntie Muriel says your dress is much too clingy.”

“I’ll make sure I wear it to her funeral.”

Ginny snickered and I watched her face fall and the glow of a patronus light up the tent.

I drank my champagne as people flew into a panic around me. My eyes searched the tent for my friends. Hermione’s bushy mane stuck out of the crowd and I watched her as she ran to Ron and Harry and the three of them disappeared. Without me.

I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

I hope you’re watching Dumbledore. I’m doing what you asked.

**Hermione: I’ll go everywhere you go.**

I thought of my parents the morning of Fleur’s wedding. I wondered if by the time I got married my mother and I would even have anything left to talk about. If my father would have enough memories of me to be overcome by emotion as he walked me down the aisle. Mostly, I thought about how for the last seven years all I thought about was myself. I was away all year at school and by the time I came home for the summer I was turning right around and heading to Astrid’s or, the Burrow or, both.

I watched as the eldest Weasley’s erected a tent on the lawn and felt Celine’s eyes boring a hole in my back, reading my sorrows. Fleur, her mother, sister, Astrid, and Celine were talking softly in French behind me. Fleur sounded very different in French. I had only the slightest clue what she was talking about but in English she sounded disdainful of everything. She was always speaking offensively. In French, she sounded sweet, lyrical.

I caught the word _ecole_ and _Gabrielle_ and a firm _oui_ from Mrs. Delacour. It appeared Beauxbatons hadn’t fallen to the Death Eaters and Gabrielle was allowed to return to school this year. A loud ‘ _pop’_ sounded and a cork bounced off the windowsill I was occupying.

“Sorry Hermione!” Astrid called. “I know the world sucks but it is time to get this party started.”

The champagne fizzed and the flutes clinked as they were passed around. Celine asked Mrs. Delacour in French about her Veela mother. Mrs. Delacour seemingly did not mind her upbringing. It suddenly dawned on me how much more Veela magic Celine and Astrid have than the Delacour’s.

Having other part Veela to compare Celine and Astrid too threw their differences in to sharp relief. But I still couldn’t put my finger on just what it was that was different. If magic leaves traces, Celine and Astrid were marked and the Delacour women, were not. Fleur and Astrid and Celine and Mrs. Delacour all had the same amount of Veela but Astrid in particular had many, many more abilities that Fleur did. Not once during the Triwizard Tournament did Fleur use the fire or stunning powers that Astrid has. She certainly has venom but, she doesn’t trick and deceive like Astrid can.

Curious. Very curious.

I’ve always had the most patience out of the four of us but, even mine has been tested these last few weeks. The urge to run out the door and get started is too strong. So, I’ve been doing what I do best and preparing, preparing, preparing.

What I didn’t plan for was Astrid not coming along.

I trust Harry and I trust Dumbledore but, unlike Harry I think Celine has a point about the man.

At the reception, I was embarrassed by how much I wanted Ron to ask me to dance and I was already half angry at him just in case he didn’t. I thought about all the Friday Night Dedications at Grimmauld Place where dance after dance Ron was oblivious to me. Friday’s where Fred would swing me around and we’d do the lawn mower or the shopping cart or the sprinkler and he’d say “I’m tired of looking at you on the sidelines Hermione” loud enough for Ron to hear and “he’s a hopeless case it’s not your fault” so only I could. For once in his life he was right on time. At the first dance he squeezed through the guests and grabbed my hand.

“I’m not really good at dancing.” Ron said, carefully setting us up before taking a step. “I tried getting Astrid to teach me but she was being distracting on purpose. Celine hit her with a fireball though so there’s that.” The corner of his lip pulled up into an insecure smile. “Celine was able to straighten out these boats though.” He nodded towards his large feet.

“The point is that you try.” I encouraged.

“Is that your secret?” He asked.

“If you don’t try and try again nothing is accomplished.” I let go of his hand and hung my other arm around his neck. His hands were placed confidently on my lower back. I was always afraid this would be awkward. That he would blush and sweat and pull away or not be able to look me in the eye. Last year I was tired of waiting. I had wanted things to take off between us but now, I’m glad I had to wait.

Tonight, he didn’t leave me on the sidelines once. I danced wildly with Astrid, Ginny, and Luna. Fred took a break from courting Veela to do the sprinkler with me for old times sake. I watched Astrid and Celine gyrate and shimmy and drip magic. I tried to understand how Astrid could roll her hips and Celine’s would answer. How the swim of their arms through the air could say more than their words ever could. My heart choked as I watched Remus dance with Astrid and Mr. Weasley with Ginny. When Kingsley’s patronus arrived I ran to the boys and pulled them into nothingness with me before they could protest. When we popped into existence in the middle of London the choking feeling only intensified.

This is it. The wait is over.

**HARRY: I was the night in shining armor in your movie.**

“Don’t even go near that bloody tent just trust me on this it’s not worth it.” Ron said as we walked out the front door on my first morning at the Burrow. Celine and Astrid’s tent looked innocent enough. The flaps were held open by ropes and a gauzy gold curtain fluttered in the breeze. A lithe figure got to it’s feet and stretched appealing. The curtain flapped again and the figure was gone.

“All their venom gets trapped in there.” Ron shuddered at the memory. “Fred and George go in and come out high as kites.”

“Harry?” A voice called from within the tent. Celine pulled back the curtain and peered out at him. I waved in response. “Come here son I have something for you!” She said excitedly. I made my way to the tent and Ron groaned behind me.

The tent was lovely. I already felt the need to never leave. Ron collapsed onto Astrid’s bed and sank deep into the mattress with its mass of pillows.

“Just kill me and get it over with.” He groaned.

Astrid, who was innocently brushing her hair prior to Ron’s outburst, quirked her eyebrows at him.

“You’re drama.” She scoffed

Celine was pulling a box into the center of the tent. I peered over her shoulder and saw it was filled with films. I picked one up and it was labeled SUMMER ’79. I looked up at her questioningly and she smiled and nodded in response.

“Lily had an old Super 8 that James was obsessed with. Never seen anything like it. It was attached to his hand for probably 3 years straight. I pillaged them from your house after that asshole blew it up.” She said with a wink.

“Brilliant.” I breathed. My eyes drinking in my dad’s blocky writing and my mom’s neat glide.

“We can watch them tonight, if you like?” She offered.

“This tent is the best.” Ron said goofily. “Hey, did you know that big hands need big wands?”

Astrid let out a sharp laugh. “Yea? Why don’t you show us?”

“Astrid!” Celine chided. “Come on Ron up ya get.” She pulled Ron to his feet and gave him a pat on his back. “Poor guy, I don’t know that I’ve ever met someone as sensitive to our venom as Ron.”

I slung Ron’s arm over my shoulder. “It is rather unfortunate.”

That night we crammed into the Weasley’s living room. Celine magicked the projector screen over the fireplace and Astrid was popping popcorn.

“I must warn you” Celine said, “These videos range from wildly boring to terribly inappropriate and Remus and I will definitely be embarrassed to death by the end of them but, they are full of James and Lily.” She finished, smoothing my hair back and kissing the top of my head.

Ginny entered the room and approached where I was sat next to George and Astrid. My chest tightened up as she kicked Fred in order to motivate him to move over. He made room for her and she settled her back against the couch in between my legs and Astrid’s. Her shoulder innocently rested against my calf and I tried really, really hard not to think about her kissing her way up that same leg just a few short months ago. A lifetime ago really.

Celine gestured to Remus and he leaned over and flipped the switch from his spot next to the projector. Tonks was settled into his lap looking more happy and content than she ever had. Remus held her tight but his face was gloomy and sad.

Right from the jump my mother filled the screen. They were in a sizeable apartment and my mother was perched on the sill of an open window. The person working the camera zoomed out and Celine was sat next to her letting the smoke of her cigarette drift into the night air.

“Here we have the birthday girl, happy as usual.” A voice I recognized as my dad’s teased. Celine flipped him off. My mother laughed and pointed at something over my dad’s shoulder. My stomach jolted. I had never heard my mother laugh before. The camera spun around to show Remus and Sirius having a mishap with the decorations.

“Fuck it all.” Celine said “and where is Peter with the booze.”

Another jolt of the stomach. Why did I think Pettigrew would be absent from these tapes?

Not a moment later the door opened and Pettigrew entered and everyone cheered. He started unpacking the contents of his bag and tapping them with his wand. Full size bottles of liquor and an entire keg sprang from their shrunken states. The camera was set down on the counter as the six of them took a shot together and toasted Celine. It laid there like that for several minutes before someone picked it up again. The continuously recording tape catching snippets of dialogue, parts of unrecognizable bodies, and more shots. When the camera was picked back up the party was in full swing.  

My mom and dad were dancing to the music, eyes glued to one another. Remus was standing in the quieter corner of the kitchen talking to a man and a woman I didn’t know.

“You were so, _adorable_.” Tonks said. Fred and George made a retching sound.

“What am I now?” Remus asked.

“Please god don’t answer that question Tonks.” Astrid groaned.

The camera took in Sirius and Celine who were back on the windowsill. They both had one leg in and one leg out the window  and their hips were settled snuggly together. Sirius was the picture of youth and health. His shiny hair framed his sculpted face. His muscles filled out his t-shirt. The man talking to them said something funny and Sirius’ bark like laugh drowned out Celine’s musical notes. The person they were speaking to turned around to call someone else over and Astrid gasped at the face on the screen.

Regulus Black looked like Sirius’ evil twin brother. He was just as tall as Sirius but a lot thinner. Sirius’ eyes were playful and mischievous and Regulus’ were calculating. Sirius’ good looks and cool demeanor drew you in. The girls nearest Regulus eyed him suspiciously. He smiled a Death Eater smile at them but his bare arms told a different story.

“That was probably the last we saw of him until your wedding?” Remus asked Celine.

“Yea, he would have been starting his Seventh year in the fall here.”

“Is that when he became a Death Eater?” I asked.

“We aren’t sure when Regulus became a Death Eater.” Celine answered. “I was pregnant with Astrid when Walburga told me but, he had been one quite a while before that I think.”

The camera swung around to the door and Celine suddenly jumped up and stopped the projector.

“Molly” She said slowly. “Gideon and Fabian are about to walk through that door.”

Mrs. Weasley clutched her heart but nodded at Celine to continue. Mr. Weasley handed her some tissues and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. Celine pressed play and the door burst open.

Gideon Prewett roared like a bear and jumped right into the party. He was surprisingly a brunette and looked very much like Ron, if Ron lifted weights that is. He scooped my mother into his arms and hugged her so tight she lifted off the floor. His biceps bulged around her.

“Hey don’t break her Gid! I worked hard to win her over.” My dad said clapping him on his broad back.

Fabian was of the slightly shorter, stockier ilk, like the twins and Charlie but I wouldn’t say he looked like either of them. He smiled just like Molly though. He shook hands with my dad and the watch on his wrist now ticked away the time on my own.

A girl drifted in the open door behind the brothers and Molly let out a tsk of impatience she usually reserved for Fleur. Celine and Remus found this immensely funny.

“Still can’t stand the sight of her Molly?” Remus chortled.

“Molly never liked Marlene McKinnon.” Celine clarified, nodding to the girl on the screen. She had curly hair that wasn’t really blonde or brown and her eyes twinkled like Albus Dumbledore’s. She caught sight of the person holding the camera and bee-lined for him or her. Marlene held the camera between her hands and kissed the lens. 

“What do you think Petey should I go for the oldest or youngest tonight?” She asked jerking the camera so it was focused on the Prewett’s.

“Aw Marlene I don’t give a shit.” He whined. “Flip a coin.”

“Head for the oldest, tail for the youngest.” She winked devilishly as she flipped a coin into the air, caught it, and smacked it onto her forearm.

“Oldest it is.” She said gleefully and ran off to Fabian.

“ _That’s_ why Molly doesn’t like Marlene.” Celine snickered.

“She was a right tramp and my brothers’ deserved better!” Mrs. Weasley snapped.

“I don’t know, she seems like a good time to me.” Fred said and Mrs. Weasley whacked him upside the head. “You’ll do best to leave girls like Marlene McKinnon well alone!”

“You let George be with Astrid!” Fred argued, rubbing the back of his skull.

“Astrid is an exception!”

“Sitting right here.” Astrid interjected.

While they bickered my eyes were glued to the screen. It really wasn’t fair that Peter Pettigrew was walking this earth while so many people in this video were not. I watched as my dad and Remus laughed by the keg, his eyes traveling to my mother every few seconds. My mom on the couch next to Marlene, the two girls laughing riotously. Sirius and Celine kissing in a corner.

James held up the bottle that was on the counter and called the Marauders over for a shot. Peter put the camera down and didn’t return to get it. Celine picked it up and turned it off.

Celine put another reel on and this one had baby Harry and baby Astrid. My mother waved my hands at the camera and my scarless forehead shone in the light. The images spit out at me one after the other for another hour. It was a car crash I couldn’t look away from. It was wonderful and terrible seeing all of this _before_ when you know exactly what the after is.

I felt like I was eleven standing in front of the Mirror of Erised but this time I could hear their voices and see their personalities. I could watch the way they interacted with others and with baby me. Lily and James looked like any ordinary couple. They could have been any ordinary couple but instead, they chose to be _extraordinary_. Choosing to do what’s hard, choosing to be remarkable, might be the only lesson my parents had the time to teach me.

I’ll be damned if I let them down now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remus: Dashboard Confessional- Vindicated  
> Celine: Lana Del Ray- Dark Paradise  
> Molly: Alicia Keys- Superwoman  
> Astrid: Joan Jett- Bad Reputaion  
> Hermione: The Chainsmokers- All We Know  
> Harry: Jon Bellion- All Time Low


	4. The Summer We All Met Krysta pt. 1

**ASTRID: Hello world, I’m your wild girl.**

_“Did you see what the papers are calling you?”_ Is what my mother said to me that morning. The corners of her mouth pulling up as she passed me the Prophet.

_“Cherry bomb strikes again.”_ I had read aloud. “Fitting.”

“Isn’t it?” She agreed, her eyes alight with laughter.

But that was months ago now. Months since I first saw my wanted poster. Months since I threw that first bomb. Months since Ted Tonks went into hiding and my mum and I found our purpose in this war.

People were leaving their homes, their families…innocent people, and Snatchers were capturing them and turning them in to the ministry. Handing them right over to the Death Eaters. It was so _fucked up._

Then Ted Tonks left.

Andromeda cried into my mother’s shoulder in our gypsy tent well into the night. Her tears were so painful, so raw, so _out of character_. By the time she left I was bubbling over with emotion and directionless rage.

_“We can do something Mum!”_

_“We can’t bring Ted home, darling.”_

_“I know we can’t. I mean the Snatchers! We can win against the Snatchers and free the people they captured. We can beat them with our magic!”_

Her body language read ‘no way’ and I was ready to fight her on it.

“ _They’re Death Eater rejects mum they would be no match for us!”_ I reasoned, joining her on her mattress. _“I listened to Dumbledore. I stayed. It has to be for a reason and it has to do with having magic no one else does and I can do it without you but I really, really don’t want to.”_

_“I need to sleep on it.” She said._ This whole conversation was triggering her bad. I could read her anxiety and shame and she wanted to pull the blankets tight around her but, there was also something else. Something like a Sirius Black sized chip on her shoulder.

When I woke up the next morning she was sitting at the entrance to our tent, smoking a cigarette and watching the sun rise.

_“Fuck Albus Dumbledore. Let’s play with some Snatchers.”_

“How did the bombs come into play?” My therapist asked. Her name was Krysta and I liked her.

I smiled big and pulled my legs up under me.

“Fred and George made them for me.”

“The twins who own that joke shop on Diagon?”

“The one and only.” I winked. My face fell and I pinched my thigh. “One, is all there is now. Just George. But, I just want to talk about the bombs today.”

“Then let’s talk about the bombs.” She smiled encouragingly and I smiled back.

I took a deep breath. “My mum came up with the idea to have weapons that weren’t wands and then Fred set off a box of Wildfire Whizbangs in our tent while we were sleeping as a prank so….”

“Bomb.” Krysta supplied.

“Bomb” I answered.

“The twins took the idea and ran with it. They researched bombs and grenades and when they handed me this comically black and round thing the size of a nectarine with a fuse hanging out of the end I realized they got the prototype from _muggle cartoons!_ ” I laughed heavily. “Those ding dongs were eating cereal watching Tom and Jerry and made me a bomb!”

I wiped tears of mirth from my eyes. “In reality my mum and the twins deserve all the credit. I just put on the sexy outfit and threw the bombs.”

“You did a lot more than just throw some bombs, Astrid.”

 I took another deep breath and continued. “They filled them with all kinds of things. Instant Darkness Powder, Love Potion with my hair in it, good old fashioned gunpowder….”

I trailed off thinking about my babies clipped neatly into my utility belt. The cool feel of the metal in the palm of my hand and the maniacal laughter that spilled out of my mouth after they exploded. The dagger strapped to my thigh as a last resort that I never once had to use because I was that good.

My hand itched to hold one and feel the calm, feel the _safety,_ my bombs gave me. So, I stuck my hand in my pocket and squeezed the bomb that was resting there.

“What’s in your pocket?” Krysta asked when I didn’t speak again. I thought about lying but I liked her. I placed the bomb on the coffee table between us and her poker face betrayed nothing of the fear I could read coursing through her.

“What’s in that bomb?” She asked.

“Glitter.” I said, smiling.

“Glitter.” She repeated skeptically.

“You ever see a Death Eater covered in glitter when they thought I was going to blow them to smithereens? It’s _hilarious_.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

I wanted my bomb back but, Krysta had picked it up and put it on her desk.

“Do you bring these everywhere with you?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you ever bring the ones that explode out?”

I shook my head. “Never.”

“If you ever want to, if you ever do, will you tell me?”

“Yes.” I promised.

I left Krysta’s office and took a long drag from my flask before disapparating.  I stumbled only slightly as my feet touched Earth and looked up at my house. The heaviness of life was already settling back around my shoulders like a cloak. George was on the porch like he often was these days. He was staring in my direction but didn’t greet me.

I trudged up the steps and collapsed on his lap. His freckled arms reached around my waist and locked me in place. Close and safe.

“How was Krysta today?”

“Fine.” I said softly. He reached into my pocket for my flask and took a shot. His lips were wet with firewhiskey as he pressed them to my neck. I could sit on this porch with George, staring out into the abyss, for the rest of my life for all I cared at this point. The only thing that made sense anymore, the only thing that felt good anymore, was drinking and George Weasley.

“Malfoy just left. Had tea with your mum.”

I sighed in response.

That night I was getting ready for bed when I came across an article of clothing that had gotten shoved to the back of my closet. A tiny white shirt with a bright red cherry pattern. I hadn’t worn it since Malfoy Manor. The first time I went after Snatchers I had chosen this shirt because it was short and tight and it gave off this vibe of innocence like I wasn’t as deadly as the papers would have you believe.

But I was. I was very, very deadly.

I balled the fabric up in my fist and startled as George shifted in bed. I dropped the shirt and my towel and climbed under the covers, spooning up behind him. He squeezed my hand hard and I held him till he fell asleep.

***

“We went to Muriel’s around Christmas.” I told Krysta, a wicked smile on my lips.

“Who’s we?”

“Mum and I and all the Weasley’s except Bill, Fleur, and Ron.” She nodded and I continued “Muriel is terrible. She’s 107 and she’s a bigot and she’s rude but the things she says are so absurd you just _laugh_ , like laugh for days about it.” I paused and looked at the plants on Krysta’s windowsill, Muriel’s words echoing around in my head. “She told George ‘Veela are _fun_ but they’re not a _wife_.’”

“Doesn’t sound very funny.” Krysta said.

“That wasn’t.” I whispered.

I thought about George pulling me close as I got ready to hunt for Snatchers that night. His arms enveloping me and his spicy, cinnamon scent filling my nose. “I can’t think of anyone who would make a better wife than you.” He murmured into my hair because he knew that in that one short sentence Muriel had touched my rawest nerve. She had inflamed my largest doubt. He knew that domesticity was so very appealing to me and at the same time so against my nature. Like a fish watching the birds fly and dreaming of one day doing the same.  

The moon rose and we kissed hard. Tongue and lips and _please don’t let this be the last kiss._ That night had been very busy. Typically, if we ran into one group of Snatchers a night that was a lot. This night we found several.

 “People are starting to join…rather than be murdered.” Mum had said. We were tired. It was well past morning but Mum kept saying she had a feeling. “I can feel something.” She whispered, staring out into the trees.  I could read the longing on her body. Something was pulling her, something familiar. I tried to pick up on it but, nothing.

Then we heard it. Yelling, spells ricocheting everywhere. Several pairs of feet stampeding through the trees and then Ron Weasley ran right by where we were hidden in the trees. We followed and waited. When the Snatchers caught them I disappeared and reappeared on a tree branch above the group. Mum circled around so she could get a clear shot. My venom curled through the air, ready for the bite.

“But, it had been a busy night.” I explained to Krysta. “The only bomb I had left was full of poison darts. I could take out some of the Snatchers with that but, I had to be careful not to get my friends with it.”

“Haven’t you boys learned your lesson yet?” I teased from my tree branch. The group looked up. The look on Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s faces was priceless. I grabbed my last bomb and casually lobbed it to the outside of the group as far away from my friends as I could. It exploded and three Snatchers went down.

“Oops!” I shrugged innocently before gracefully flipping to the ground and the Snatcher closest to me immediately fell under my spell.

“But the head Snatcher had tangled with us before.” I said. “He started yelling ‘watch out for the other one!’ While he said that a Snatcher had grabbed me but, no one can restrain me. My venom makes them want to hold me.” I gave a flirty shimmy for emphasis and Krysta laughed.

The head Snatcher yelled for everyone to go and I could read all over him he thought he had the prize. He read like a kid scoring their first Quidditch goal.

“So, I let myself be caught.” I told Krysta sadly. “I knew wherever they took them they would eventually know they had Harry Potter and I couldn’t just let them be taken.”

“Where did they take you?” She asked.

“Malfoy Manor.” I said.

“Were your cousins there?”

“Yep. And Narcissa did nothing. She acted like she didn’t know me. The same woman who used to beg me to sit on her lap and let her hug and kiss me. She took me to finishing school with Draco, bought me gifts, absolutely spoiled me. A woman who would see me and her face would break out into a big, wide smile. That same woman did absolutely nothing to help me.”

“What about Draco?”

“He gave only slightly more of an effort than she did.”

“And Lucius?”

“Lucius has always been a shit. I have no idea how that piece of boiled spaghetti got a woman like Narcissa.”

“You deserved more from them.”

I didn’t say anything because the lump in my throat was too painful.

I left Krysta’s office and gulped down the contents of my flask. My eyes watered when I didn’t come up for air after one shot but, I kept going until the burning in my throat hurt more than the emotional lump that had refused to quit during my session.

When I got home I was drunk. I kicked off my shoes in the hall and stumbled through the house looking for George. He was in bed even though it was 2 o’ clock and there was an empty rocks glass on the nightstand.

“How was your session?” He asked.

“Terrible.” I slurred.

“I think that means it’s working.” He joked.

I tossed my cloak on the floor and climbed onto his lap, ripping his shirt over his head before feverishly kissing him. I clung to him and he clung right back. His hands roamed my back and mine cradled his head. We don’t fuck like we used to. We used to have fun. We used to laugh and things would get knocked over in our carelessness. We would indulge every passing fantasy, every curiosity, we were absolutely sinful. Now, we fucked like we would fall apart if we didn’t. Like the only thing keeping us from breaking into a million pieces was the other one’s arms. Now, we fucked on the verge of tears. We drank to numb and fucked to feel but none of this was working.

**GEORGE: Don’t get cut on my edges.**

Dead.

Detached. Deformed. Desperate.

Severed.

The first few weeks after Fred’s death the vacuous emptiness he left behind made me feel like I had been making out with a Dementor for far too long.

Numb.

My soul had been split.

I watched my empty shell of a body wander from room to room from the ceiling. Puppet George would go through the motions and Fred and I would laugh as he bumped into walls. Despite my plea for it to stop, the Earth kept turning.  My brothers, and sisters and parents rotated in and out throughout the day, every day. They made me eat, mum cleaned and did the wash, Verity would knock on the door to my flat every morning and ask me to come to work. When I would refuse she’d ruffle my greasy hair and then run the store as best she could. Celine appeared before the last moonbeam made way for the sun’s rays. Her weight on the foot of Fred’s bed the first sign of her presence. I remembered Sirius drunk in the parlour telling me about how she could just appear like that. How she could slip from existence and into your bedroom if she wanted.

“Look into his empty space ever day.” She whispered. “It will hurt, _bad,_ but look at it, George. _Feel it._ ”

Charlie showed up at 5 am on July 1st, ripped me out of bed and threw me in the shower.

“WE ALL LOST HIM YOU FUCKING ASS.” He hollered before tossing the rest of my liquor out of my window. The shower pressure wasn’t loud enough to block out the sound of the glass shattering on the street of Diagon Alley.

Charlie’s rough and tumble tactics shook me up enough to make a change. That change being moving from Fred’s bedroom to Astrid’s. Here, I parked my melancholy on the front porch and numbed the edges with whiskey. Day in and day out I sat on that porch watching the world go on without Fred.

I was very grouchy.

But I was getting very comfortable in my grief. I like my spot on the porch. I liked being numb. I could keep this up.

Draco Malfoy was having tea with Celine often. He’d strut past me into the house with barely a glance. He likely wouldn’t strut so hard if he knew how much of his conversations with Celine floated out the open sunroom window and to my ears. On one such occasion, Malfoy didn’t like the cold hard truth’s Celine was issuing him and he stormed from the house. The screen door banged twice before he occupied the other chair. I glared at him and his lip curled at the sight of me.

I was fully aware that I looked like shit. Rumpled, unwashed shirt to go with my unwashed face and week old beard. My genetically terrible complexion was made worse from the months of drinking. He stubbornly stayed put and I turned my gaze back out on the lawn. I did not have the energy to care about Draco Malfoy.

I took a sip of whiskey and we sat in silence for a long time.

***

Draco apparently wants to be the second porch sentinel. I don’t particularly mind. He doesn’t talk, which is the most important part, after all.

***

I still don’t know what possessed me to do it but, I poured Draco a drink. I splashed two fingers of whiskey into the glass, stretched my arm across the space between us, and handed him a drink.

“This better be a respectable whiskey.” He sneered.

“Let’s call it ‘average at best.’”

He took a sip and his pale cheeks flushed immediately.

“I’ll bring the whiskey next time.” He said with displeasure.

“There’s a plan.” I answered, smiling around the rim of my glass.

And we didn’t say a word the rest of the afternoon.

He did bring the whiskey the next time and it was really, _very,_ good. We exchanged a few more sentences and lapsed back into silence.

So, I’d guess that’s how I’d say my extremely unlikely friendship with Draco Malfoy began, on Astrid’s front porch, sharing the silence.

***

“Celine is pushing me to go to therapy.” He said one sweltering afternoon.

“You should.”

“You go?”

“Of course I go. I’m suffering remember.”

“How could I forget.”

Silence.

“Do you see the same person they all do?”

“Yep, Krysta is the best.”

“Would she see….me?”

‘ _would she see a Death Eater?’_ Hung unspoken in the air between us.

“Krysta sees everyone.” I nodded.

He quickly masked his face and denounced the entire science of psychology. I ignored him and basked in the following silence.

“Where would I start?” He asked almost shyly.

I turned to look at him and grinned “at the beginning of course.”

***

“Start from the beginning.” Krysta said with an encouraging smile.

I smiled back and stretched out on the sofa.

“I guess the beginning would have to be April Fool’s Day.”

“April Fool’s Day?”

“April Fool’s Day.”

“What makes the first of April the beginning?”

“To start, it’s our…my…birthday.”

“No way.” She chuckled. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“I swear on Astrid’s perfect ass it’s true.”

“Joke shop owners who were born on April Fool’s Day…” Krysta mused.

“We played our first prank on April Fool’s Day. Inked everyone’s tea cups. Classic.” I stretched my arms behind my head and smiled at the ceiling thinking of Percy’s red face and black teeth. “The rest is history.”

Out of habit, my head jerked to the left. Muscle memory turning my neck to check and see what Fred was thinking. To make eye contact and align our chi or whatever it was Astrid always said happened when we were riding the same wavelength. Krysta noticed.

“Do we talk about Fred?”

“Yea we can talk about Fred.” I said shrugging my shoulders. I looked away from the ceiling and right in Krysta’s eyes. “It’s living without him I can’t do.”

“Yet, here we are, living.”

“Here we are…” I barely breathed. “How do you describe being a twin to someone who has been alone their whole life?”

“Do you think us single birth’s feel alone?”

“

Krysta shrugged. I turned to stare at the ceiling again.

“Fred and I were one cell…and we split into two….and now he’s gone…and I’ve never been alone, _ever_.”

“Who makes life worth living?” She asked quietly.

“Astrid.” I said without hesitating. I breathed in and out. “I can _feel_ the empty space he left behind. The space he SHOULD be occupying is tangible for me.”

“Can you see him?”

“When I look in the mirror.”

“Can you hear him?”

“When I open my mouth.”

“and Astrid? How does she help?”

“She does a damn good job filling the empty space.”

***

“I want you to take a vacation.” Krysta said, beginning our session.

“Excellent, any particular place you’re sending me?”

“I don’t care where you go, as long as you go alone.”

The bottom of my stomach dropped out and I was stunned into silence.

“No! Absolutely not!” I spluttered.

“Why not?”

I jumped to my feet and began pacing.

“Absolutely not! Who goes on a vacation _alone_ Krysta!”

“You seem very agitated at the idea of spending time with no one but yourself.”

“Who’s agitated? I’m not agitated. You’re the one who’s barking right now. Going on vacation alone, _honestly.”_ I ranted.

“George, please sit down and take a breath.” She politely requested. I complied. “You’re whole life, you have been codependent on Fred. You were completely enmeshed with him. I cannot speak for Fred but, I would bet he was entirely codependent on you as well. Fair?”

“Fair.” I agreed.

“And now, you have lost the person you have been so reliant on and you have never learned to be alone so, you are taking everything you have and pouring it into Astrid because, she is the next best thing.”

I am not sure what magic they teach therapists.

“and she is struggling under that weight.”

“She’s struggling?”

“Based on what you have told me about you and Astrid lately, I believe she is struggling to fill Fred’s shoes. She cannot fill Fred’s shoes, George.”

“So, I need to go on vacation alone…?”

“To learn how to be alone.”

“That is going to suck.”

“It is totally going to suck.” She finished, smiling the satisfied smile of a therapist who knows she’s right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Astrid: Cherry Bomb- The Runaways  
> George: Young God- Halsey


	5. The Summer We all Met Krysta pt. 2

**DRACO: This place is a zoo.**

How do you accept that your entire world has been turned upside down. Everything that used to be right is now wrong. The men you used to look up to, copy, emulate, are now social outcasts. The side you fought for lost.

What do you do with the shame?

How do you cope when the very people you struck down offer you a hand up?

The Malfoy family always keeps an Ace in their back pockets. We have money in every currency. Family homes tucked away in several countries. We have passports and driver’s licenses and after my parents and I fled the battle my father had called the airport and was about to place three first class tickets to Switzerland before my mother hung up the phone and shoved it back in the closet.

“We are _not_ running like mutts with our tails between our legs.” My mother had hissed. She owled a defense attorney instead and time stamped the note.

“No one will be there to answer it.” My father sniffed.

“That’s the point. The battle isn’t over yet, is it.”

My mother saved us but, the Pureblood society I grew up in now meant nothing to anyone. My friends, Theo Nott, Blaise and Goyle, Pansy and Daphne, were all in various states of ignominy. So, I woke up everyday and put on my good clothes and breakfasted with my parents and then …nothing. I can remember my parent’s days being filled to bursting with calling on friends and business associates and planning committees. All in the past now.

It was Astrid who initially checked up on me. She was the first person to brave being seen on our doorstep. She came before family, before all our friends. She never did particularly care about her reputation anyway. I knew it was her because she repeatedly jammed her finger into the doorbell, unannounced, because she has no class.

“Oh good, you’re not dead.” She said cheerfully, clapping me on the shoulder and entering the house.

Celine began calling on my mother again shortly after that, properly, because she is full of class. I started wandering and more often than not, I wound up on her front porch.

I could talk to Celine. She never joked or teased or laughed at you, all things that inflame my pride and bruise my ego. She did burden you with truth’s though and it was on once such day that I found myself in the company of a completely wrecked George Weasley.

He was disgusting. He had completely lost all respect for himself.

He didn’t talk though, and it was really nice on the porch.

***

It is cruel joke that George and I have somehow become friends. A joke, that I curse Salazaar for every time I agree to hang out with him. He isn’t funny and he’s extremely embarrassing. But there’s something about them, George and Astrid and Celine, something about their house, something about that _porch_ that feels like home. Which is why I kept coming back even though they are all unbearable.

***

Receiving the Dark Mark was easier than walking into Krysta’s office. She greeted me and we exchanged formal pleasantries which relaxed me. I wasn’t going to have to deal with unrefined trash on top of everything else. Her polished etiquette inspired me to try and place her blood status and the realization that _this is exactly why I am here_ knocked me back onto the sofa.

She prompted me to start at the beginning, just like George said she would, but I still hadn’t figured out what the beginning was so, I sat there in silence. Stewing. Pondering. Blaming my problems on everything and everyone else. Convincing myself I didn’t need to be there. At the end of the hour that we had passed in total silence I pulled out my wallet to pay the woman and with a gesture of her hand she said “Hold on to your gold and come back next week. We can try again.”

“I’ll do that.” I responded.

The week came and went and before I knew it I was in Krysta’s office again and I still didn’t know what the beginning was.

“Just start wherever you like then, no pressure.” She smiled at me.

“My life was _great_.” The word ‘great’ came out desperate. “and now everything is different. Now I’m scum and everyone is licking _Harry Potter’s_ shoes worse than they were before.” I jumped to my feet and began pacing the floor. I was _ranting._ For one hour I paced back and forth expelling all my frustrations and feelings in a constant stream of venom. I talked about the people I hated, the people I feared, the things that happened to me and things I did to others. At the end of my cathartic release I collapsed onto the sofa.

“I love my parents.” I said, breathing a little heavily and slicking my hair back into place. “They are my biggest supporters. I have looked up to my father my entire life. I was so proud to be his son. Maybe I should have looked up to my mother more. Maybe things would have been different.”

“Maybe.” She concurred. “Or maybe you wouldn’t be alive.”

I snapped my gaze to hers. She looked very serious.

“The world might see a young boy who chose evil. I see a young boy who chose life. Someone who chose his family over everything else.”

“I did.” I was breathing heavily again. “I did do that, just not for the right side.”

“No, not for the right side.” She agreed again. “Here, we can figure out how to cope with the consequences of that.”

I thanked her and we said our goodbyes. I felt so good leaving her office I thought I wouldn’t go back.

“Go back you asshole.” George had said, pouring himself a glass of very fine scotch from the Malfoy’s collection.

“I feel great. I don’t need to go.” I tilted my head up high and took a sip from my own glass. It was magnificent out on the porch this afternoon.

George snickered and I rankled at the sound. “You _need_ to go.”

“Piss off.” I said.

“Pissing off.” He complied but his eyes were still alight with good humor. He pulled his guitar into his lap and lazily picked away. Celine appeared at the end of the drive and walked spiritedly towards the house. Her coltish legs taking her to the porch in a few strides.

 “I’ll take a glass of that boys, if you don’t mind.” She asked politely. “Godric Draco aren’t you hot?”

I pulled the cuff of my sleeve down further on my left arm. I said nothing. She said nothing. Her eyes told me they knew though. They could see right through you and it wasn’t legilimency so I couldn’t block her out. She could do something else. Something wizards couldn’t which made me very angry.

_‘How dare she.’_ I thought, my blood beginning to boil. She took her glass from George and squeezed my shoulder before sitting down on my left. With that pressure something like love and hope flowed through my arm and into my heart. I stared at my left arm and imagined the image that was hidden beneath my shirt sleeve. The mark that whenever I saw it brought on a wave of shame and self loathing so strong I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to wear shirt sleeves again. The same mark that used to bring on feelings of pride and power.

I might have some things I still need to talk to Krysta about.

**CELINE: Baby, you’re dead to me.**

“Did the others warn you about me?” I teased as I sat down on Krysta’s grey couch.

“They did.” She confirmed. “I have been told I need to ‘bring out the big guns’, that even if I had a time turner I wouldn’t have enough time to fix you, and ‘good luck.’”

I smiled a secret smile and held her gaze. “They’re not wrong.”

“I’m not worried.” She promised. “You seem resilient.”

“If nothing else.” I sighed. I launched into a synopsis of life thus far. Highlighting my mother and our relationship and her relationship with men. My dad, and Remus, and Sirius, and the first war, and the second, and Astrid and the Potters.

“So where would you like to start?” She asked when I finished. “Where is your beginning?”

I swallowed hard and pulled the hem of my dress to my knees. A nervous habit I hadn’t engaged in since I was a teenager. I knew exactly how to answer her question but, I didn’t know if I could admit it.

“Sirius died two years ago, and Remus died at the battle of Hogwarts and, when all the dust had settled and, I went home for the first time, I stood on my porch and stared up at the moon and I felt the most intense sense of relief. The deepest sense of freedom. I was free of the two biggest, heaviest, emotional chains of my life. The relief was so strong I started laughing and I couldn’t stop. That’s my beginning.” My breath caught quietly in my chest as I remembered that night, and that feeling, and the two men who haunted me while they were alive but, couldn’t catch me in death. “and you’re the only one who knows that.” I added.

“It doesn’t mean you didn’t love them.” She said.

“Veela like intensity. I used to tell Astrid all the time she didn’t want a great love story. All great love stories end in tragedy.”

“You would know better than anyone.” Krysta said quietly.

“Sirius Black was worth it though.” I pulled Regulus’ old cigarette case out of my purse and placed one between my lips.  “I’m perpetually suspicious of men. I’ve only ever been with Remus and Sirius. I dated a guy between the two of them but, we didn’t do more than kiss. Everyone thinks they can have me.”

“What about women?” She asked innocently.

I inhaled hot smoke into my lungs and released it with another secret smile. “I’ve been with a girl or two.”

Krysta waited while I smoked.

“Sirius and I never fought. Which is odd because he did everything at 100% and so did I. He brought that out in me. He made it safe for the Veela to show. We were two angry kids yelling into the wind and if we knew then what would happen…” I trailed off. Memories flooding my brain. Close and real and painful. “We had this trick. If I was angry about something he would say to me ‘tell me all about it darling. By the time I get to your toes I promise you won’t be upset anymore.’ And he’d start at my lower back and take his sweet time kissing all the way down the back of my leg and I’d just vent and by the time he got to one of my toes I was _definitely_ not mad anymore.”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up thinking about his lips on my skin.

“He’d get in the tub and I’d tell him by the time I’m done washing his hair he won’t even remember what he was mad about. I’d massage and scratch his scalp and pull the soap through his hair till he was putty. He had _glorious_ hair.”

“That’s beautiful.” She said.

I smiled big in response.

“That’s the first natural smile I’ve seen you wear.”

“Sirius has that effect on me.” I caught her gaze and held it. “He’s _always_ had that effect on me.”

“But now you’re free?”

“I spent thirteen years without him. Half that time I spent in a fog. Trust me when I tell you, I’m free.”

“Never again?”

“Never.”

***

I left Krysta’s office and hiked in the direction of Diagon Alley. I smoked another cigarette on the walk to the restaurant where I was meeting my friends for lunch. My therapy session still fresh in my mind. I entered the café and the host pointed me to my companions.

“Finally.” Andromeda complained. “How was therapy?”

“Splendid.”

“Did you cry about my dead cousin again?” Narcissa quipped.

“She was probably too busy crying about my dead Son-In-Law.” Andromeda said. “Dead cousin is next session.”

“You two are the _worst._ I’m regretting ever convincing you both to bury the hatchet.”

Andromeda raised an eyebrow skeptically “Who would bury a hatchet? It’s a waste of a perfectly good murder weapon.”

“Ahh sister, you remind me of Bellatrix when you talk like that.”

“May Salazar rest her soul.” I deadpanned.

“Amen.” Andromeda and Narcissa said together.

“Can I get a Martini?” I begged the waitress. “Andromeda darling, please tell me you brought pictures of Teddy.”

“So you _were_ crying about my dead son-in-law.”

“I was not.”

“Well then tell us Celine, this is tiresome.” Narcissa said.

“I was mostly talking about being over relationships.” I said downing half of my martini in one go.

“So, you’re just going to be _celibate?”_ Narcissa asked.

“Please, like Lucius is that good.” Andromeda challenged taking a sip of her wine.

“Have you no creativity Narcissa? And I agree with Andromeda.”

“Have I had to train Lucius over the years? The answer is yes. However, I’d rather have to train a man again from scratch than fly solo like a horny teenager.”

While Narcissa was talking Andromeda and I exchanged a fleeting glance.

“I’m exhausted.”

“Celine, I have caught four men and one woman checking you out since you sat down. Surely, you can find someone who isn’t as exhausting as my dear cousin.” Andromeda pushed.

“You find someone then.”

“I have a baby to raise.”

“Excuses, excuses.”

The three of us chuckled as our lunch was delivered.

“Women of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black are made of stronger stuff.” Andromeda started up again. “Don’t admit defeat.”

“Good thing I’m not really a Black then.” I grumbled.

Narcissa and Andromeda’s turn to exchange a pointed glance.

“Everyone at this table is a Black sister.” Narcissa said, squeezing my hand.

***

After lunch I apparated a few blocks from home, wanting the walk through my cozy town to clear my head. The hydrangeas were in full bloom and I cut a few flowers for a vase before making my way to the kitchen. Astrid and George had clearly just gotten up. They were stiff and rumpled from sleep and obviously, very hungover. George glugged a glass of water while Astrid prepared mugs of tea. She turned towards him, steaming mugs in hand, and I watched in disbelief as George pulled a flask from his pocket and emptied the contents into the two tea cups.

Maybe it was therapy. Maybe it was lunch with Narcissa and Andromeda. Maybe I was just done turning a blind eye. Whatever it was, something inside me snapped.

“THAT’S IT.” I bellowed. With a wave of my wand the tea cups exploded.

“Ow! Shit!” George cursed patting his bare torso where the tea had splattered.

“There will be no more drinking in this house until further notice.” Another wave of my wand and the bottles marched from the cabinet and out the door.

They immediately began to protest but, I shouted over them.

“I miss you two! I’m tired of seeing you half drunk as soon as you wake up. It is high time you dealt with your shit! I want to see you both creating again. I want to hear this house full of music and song and pranks like it used to be. I want to walk in on you making out on the floor because you’ve been brewing love potion all day. That’s how you deal with grief. That’s how you get through it. Not with a bottle of Ogden’s.”

“What about that good shit that Malfoy brings over?” George asked. “Can that be how we get through it?”

“Nope. Banned.” Astrid was mad. She was half an inch away from burning and I flashbacked to the two of us at the battle of Hogwarts when we successfully pulled off the trick my mother had told me about all those summers ago. The summer she came to Grimmauld pl. We were ten foot tall burning effigies setting fire to acromantulas and flinging Death Eaters like frisbees toward the black lake. I thought of us clinging to each other in the Great Hall, singed and hot, and the anger not fully out of our system. I stepped closer to her, “get your shit together and _cope.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco: The Strokes- Hard to Explain  
> Celine: Melanie Martinez- Dead to Me


	6. The Summer We Danced on the Graves of our Ghosts

**RON: Why do you go wasting your time on me?**

One year ago, we burned this castle to the ground.

And this morning I became an Uncle.

“Have you ever held a baby before?” Hermione had whispered as we walked through the halls of St. Mungo’s, fingers twisting nervously around each other.

“Nope.” I confirmed, taking her hand in my own. Successfully stopping her fidgeting.

“I know how to do it in theory. Support her neck, Ron!”

“She can’t do it on her own?” I questioned. I got a reproving look in response. We arrived at the right room and Hermione gave a few quiet raps.

“Come in!” Fleur’s voice trilled.

Fleur was stretched splendidly on the hospital bed. Pillows in silk cases were stacked behind her and her hair was knotted prettily on top of her head. In a bassinet beside her lay what was either a small baby or an extra large burrito.

Victoire was perfect, of course, and I found myself unable to speak as Bill placed the baby burrito in my arms and Fleur called me _Tonton Ron._ She had a bow on her head that was larger than she was and I smoothed her hair flat where it was sticking up. As my thumb gently stroked her temple her cheeks scrunched into what was unmistakably, a smile.

“Blimey, did you see that?” I asked Hermione. She nodded in response and leaned her chin on my shoulder.

“First time she’s smiled.” Bill said. “She likes her Uncle Ron.”

“She has terrible taste then.” George said as he entered with Celine and Astrid. “However, I am only half as great as I once was so the competition isn’t exactly fierce.” He affectionately pinched my arm and peered over my other shoulder at our freshly minted niece.

“Oh, Fleur!” Astrid gushed followed by a stream of French that made Fleur beam.

Victoire was the gift we needed to get through this day.

We would all be attending the official ceremony to commemorate the Battle of Hogwarts after visiting the baby. Aside from the promise of receiving my Order of Merlin, I was dreading it. Hermione and I apparated into Hogsmeade and I tried not to think about the last time I apparated to this very spot.

I slipped my arm around Hermione’s shoulders and we walked in silence toward the station. The train was making a special trip for the event and Harry had wanted to take the train to Hogwarts one last time. Hermione’s parents would be arriving in the same fashion. They would be seeing the place where their daughter grew up for the first time. I wondered if they were the only muggles to ever be granted access to the castle. I smiled to myself because I knew Hermione would know the answer to that.

It was nice to see everyone, I will say that. Hermione took the tour of the newly renovated castle with her parents. Harry and I skipped the tour and opted to hit the bar instead. High tops in white linens  were spread out across the lawn and refreshments abounded. Everyone wanted to take our fucking picture. Astrid sang _If I Die Young_ accompanied by George’s guitar and there wasn’t a dry eye in the place. The names of those who died during the battle were etched into the walls of the entrance hall and the list was so long I had to look away.

But the Weasley’s had something to smile about in between the tours and the singing and the crying and the scotch. We had Victoire.

Finally, it was the award ceremony. Kingsley pinned the gold and green medal to my robes and my family cheered from the front row. George’s well practiced whistle echoed across the grounds and I thought about standing in front of the Mirror of Erised when I was just 11 years old. Before I knew any of this would happen.

From behind Kingsley Shacklebolt, Hermione mouthed the words:

_I love you._

I stood next to Harry and Hermione while Astrid and Celine and several other Order of the Phoenix members received their awards. Celine sobbed into her hands as Andromeda walked Teddy to the stage to receive Remus’ medal. His turquoise hair vibrant against the back drop of his grandmother’s black robes.  

When we were dismissed, Hermione pulled me away from the small talk and led me towards the castle. We passed George and Lee talking with Malfoy, who was quietly listening to George and Lee’s banter. He shook his head in disbelief at the other two and raised his glass to his lips. When he caught sight of us approaching his face fell and he turned his back to us. I fought the urge to shove him as we walked by.

“I can’t believe they’re friends.” Hermione whispered once we were out of ear shot.

“I know, George defends him too. Just like Astrid and Celine.”

“And after everything that has happened…” She didn’t have to complete her sentence. I knew what she was referring to.

Hermione was one of a handful of students who came back to Hogwarts to finish up properly. She and Neville were the only Gryffindors to return. Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein from Ravenclaw, and Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff completed their group. Hermione had brought it to McGonagall’s attention that the returning group frankly didn’t care to return to their dorms and would hope to not be restricted to the castle like the younger students are. McGonagall granted these wishes and furnished a makeshift dormitory for them.

“Look familiar?” Hermione asked, pushing open a door at the end of the third floor corridor.

“This place is so much bigger without a vicious three headed dog.” I observed.

Five beds lined the walls. The three girls on the left, Neville and Anthony on the right. Straight ahead was floor to ceiling windows with desks lined against them. Neville’s _mimbulus mimbletonia_ waved happily from what I assumed was his desk and Crookshanks was curled up happily on Hermione’s bed. Banners from all four houses lined the walls and closest to the entrance was a small fireplace and some assorted furniture.

“I thought there weren’t any Slytherins?” I asked, eyeing the green and silver banner before collapsing onto her bed.

“There aren’t but, this is Hogwarts and Slytherin is one of the houses you know.” She grinned cheekily at me. “All five of us wanted to lead by example. Really show what interhouse unity means.” She said quietly, eyes seeing ghosts of division and violence.

She sighed and laid down with me. I’ve never been a daydreamer. I’m not one to lose myself in fantasy. So, before we were together I never really imagined what being with her would be like. I never fantasized about her in bed. I could barely even think about kissing her without blushing and feeling overwhelmed. In my naivety, I thought being her boyfriend would be exactly like being her friend with some added benefits. What I was forgetting about was intimacy and never in my wildest dreams could I have guessed that Hermione could be soft and sweet under all the bloody _sass._

 Her fingers could ghost so softly over my skin. When she was done kicking everyone’s ass for the day she could kick off her shoes and curl up into my side and just surrender. She would let me _hold_ her. The best, my most favorite part, was that all of this was just for me. Harry and Astrid and Ginny and all the people in this dormitory didn’t get it. Just me. She is perhaps the first thing in my life, that is all mine.

We killed the Devil now all we had left to do is enjoy the rest of our lives.

**HARRY: I’d rather be a lover than a fighter.**

For the first time in my life I was weightless.

The future stretched out endlessly in front of me and it was only filled with good things. No Voldemort, or Horcruxes, or underground rebel organizations, or Triwizard Tournaments, or escaped murderer Godfathers, or secret chambers, or sorcerers’ stones, or abusive caregivers. Only good things.

The last year of my life was the first I didn’t have anyone telling me what to do and where to hide. I hopped from spare room to spare room at first. A few weeks at the burrow, a few weeks at Astrid’s, or George’s empty apartment if I had a few too many pints with the guys. Ginny and I spent a week in Bristol before she went back to school. After she returned to the castle I decided on an apartment in a quiet part of London. Restlessness soon kicked in and I was anxious to start taking the ministry up on its offer in the Auror department but, Celine convinced me to wait at least a year.

“Harry you have not stopped in seven years.”

“So? I had a rest. I want to get back to it.”

“Back to saving the world?” She asked, arching a brow at me and sipping her glass of wine. “Thought you’d tire of that by now.”

I shrugged in response.

“Take the year, breathe, act selfishly and irresponsibly, and take care of yourself for once.”

The idea of only worrying about myself and my needs was so appealing I decided to take her advice.

And it felt really, really, good.

Ginny still had a month of school left at the time of the memorial. She was captain of the Quidditch team and studying for her NEWT’s. I came to every match and before long, there were recruiters who didn’t miss a game either. Currently, she didn’t want to think further than the graduation party she fully expected us to throw her.

After the award ceremony the Forbidden Forest drew my attention. The path I walked to meet Voldemort to be exact, and the resurrection stone I knew to be lost among the detritus.

The resurrection stone was always the Hallow that drew me the most. I may be the only person alive who can say they have been able to see and speak to the dead and that is a precious gift. The gift of the resurrection stone I did not expect was the closure.

I have finally put my parents to rest.

The heavy cloak of grief and longing I’ve carried with me for as long as I can remember was now hanging in my closet along with the other things I only took out once in a while. I now know what I always believed, that my parents were with me even in death. Sirius and Remus and my mum and dad were everywhere. When Teddy took his first steps, Tonks and Remus were there. When I moved into my apartment, my parents were there.  The days I take long, destination-less walks through London, Sirius roamed the streets with me.

June turned into July and Ginny was in my apartment with me more days than not. She threw parties I never would have thrown that were actually quite fun and started a collection of cacti on my window sill. I learned she had the perplexing habit of relaxing in her towel for over an hour post shower, bemoaning the idea of getting ready.

“Who do you talk to about me?” She asked on one such occasion, adjusting the towel perched on top of her head.

“What?”

“Who do you talk to about me? It’s obviously not _Ron_.”

I laughed loudly at that. Ron could barely tolerate me saying Ginny’s name let alone any details about our _relationship_.

“Astrid…usually…although Hermione will do in a pinch.”

“Makes sense.” She nodded in agreement. “What kind of things?”

“That’s my business.”

“Come on Harry!”

In truth, the first time I saw Ginny topless I completely panicked. I pretended to be late for something and ran from my dormitory, pulling my shirt on in the stairwell as I went. When I had told Astrid a week later she was appalled with me.

“You _ran!_ Godric Gryffindor Harry you have a smoking hot, half naked girl straddling you in your bed and you chose to _run.”_

“What was I supposed to do?!” I hissed, keeping close to her heels in the crowded hall.

“I can think of atleast 10 things without even trying that hard.” She hissed back.

“So fix me.” I requested.

“I literally do not have time for this.” She pulled me next to a suit of armor out of the bustling crowd and proceeded to describe to me in _vulgar_ detail _exactly_ what I should do next time Ginny is undressing in my presence. My cheeks were burning hot with embarrassment by the time she said goodbye and rejoined the throng of students.

“You can always ask her what she likes you know!” She called back to me and my already flushed cheeks turned another shade redder. The next time I didn’t run.

“She gave me some basic tips back in sixth year.” I supplied. “Now I bounce date ideas off her. Every now and again she tries to get me to talk about what we do when we’re alone but, it’s important to have boundaries with Astrid.”

Ginny laughed her strong laugh. “After all, If we don’t set boundaries with her how will she cross them?”

Ginny, in her way, showed me all the things I missed out on while the universe had other plans for me.

**GINNY: I’ll dive in deeper, deeper for you.**

Out of everyone in my family I was the angriest about Fred’s death. I boiled with it. That anger flared in  my soul and I flung it at everyone around me. Mean, bitter words that I filed to a point before they flew from my mouth.

“Careful little sis.” Charlie had warned me. “You’re not making threats you’re making promises.” I told him he didn’t even act like he was sad about Fred.

In life, Fred was a dick…a lot. He put you down as often as he lifted you up. He could bully if he felt like it. It never was a surprise to me that Astrid fell for George because despite how hard they worked to prove otherwise, Fred and George were very different people.

Fred was the first to tell me I couldn’t play Quidditch with the rest of them and they all blindly agreed. It was an accepted fact that Ginny Was Not Allowed to Play Quidditch with Us because Fred had said so. The fury from that memory propelled me to Professor McGonagall’s office to ask to be appointed Quidditch captain.

“Might as well be you, Weasley.” She had said, thoroughly unconvinced Gryffindor had a shot in hell this year.

“Fuck you Fred.” I had whispered under my breath as I shut the door to the Headmistresses office.

I was the first Quidditch captain since Oliver Wood to incorporate circuit training into practices. Angelina and Harry and the other house captains focused on air drills and flying techniques. My team did burpees every time they dropped the quaffle. My beaters had additional weightlifting schedules. They all ran laps every time they sassed me.

So, I guess I should thank Fred for my contract with the Harpies.

Harry and I spent his birthday just the two of us. We cooked his favorite dinner and worked our way through the wine. He blew out the candles on two gourmet cupcakes I bought from the bakery.

“Best birthday of my life.” He said, licking some stray icing off his finger.

I scooted closer to him and he draped his arm around my shoulders.

I held my cupcake up like a toast “To spending our birthday’s together.”

“Forever.” He said, tapping his cupcake against mine, the icing sticking together.

“Forever” I echoed against his lips.

“I have something for you.” He said, getting to his feet.

“Have you forgotten how birthdays work?” I groaned in response. He could never just accept being spoiled.

He returned from his room carrying his firebolt.

“Why do you have that?”

He turned the handle of his beloved broomstick over and over in his palm before saying “I know you’ve been saving every Knut you make for the Nimbus…and I’ve just been thinking…I only use it when we’re at the Burrow anymore anyway. I want you to use it and when the Harpies decide you’re worth the cost of a broom I’ll take it back.”

“What if I don’t give it back.” I teased, circling my arms around his waist.

“I don’t know if you know this but, I defeated Lord Voldemort, turned him into a thousand pieces of ash, I would do it again for a broomstick.”

“Harry.” I said softly, lips half an inch from his.”

“Yes?”

“Put down the firebolt and take me into your bedroom.” Harry is nothing if not accommodating.

***

August brought my first professional Quidditch practice. I was much more nervous than I anticipated. My hands shook as I pulled on my practice robes. I held Harry’s firebolt close to me. I followed my teammates out onto the pitch and kicked off into the air immediately. A wolf whistle that carried across England stopped my heart and I whipped around, convinced I was currently in the middle of a haunting. My face broke into a huge smile, maybe the biggest one I’ve ever worn.

In the stands sat all my brothers, even Charlie, even _Percy_ along with Harry, Hermione, and Astrid. I knew right then. I felt it in my very spirit, that despite everything, Fred was here with us. That Fred was whistling along with George and he was proud of me. I laughed thinking about all the jokes he might have made if he were alive. How he’d tell me my form was still shit no matter how much they pay me. How he probably still wouldn’t let me play at the Burrow. How he’d tell my teammates he taught me everything I knew (all lies).

I felt less angry remembering that underneath it all Fred was a damn good brother.

**HERMIONE: You can’t carry it with you if you want to survive.**

“I’m sorry? What did you say?” For the record, I had heard Celine clearly, but what she was asking me could not be _what she was asking me._ I had stopped by to have tea with Celine and Astrid after a particularly grueling interview at the Ministry of Magic. This weekend my friends and Celine would be lunching at my parent’s house and Celine had just asked me to extend the invitation to the last person on Earth I would ever invite to my home.

“Could Draco come along with us on Saturday?” Celine repeated. Astrid was looking from her mother to me with sheer glee at how interesting her afternoon had become.

“Why, would I ever, allow Draco Malfoy in my home.” I replied. Anger dripping from every syllable.

“Because his therapist wants him to spend time with muggles and you are the only muggleborn he has ever spoken to so he asked us to run it by you.”

“Malfoy is in _therapy_?! What could Malfoy possibly need therapy for?!” I spluttered.

Celine’s eyes darkened and Astrid’s expression hardened. Her teacup clinked loudly on its saucer in the silence. I had done it. I had crossed the imaginary line between you’re our friend and Draco is our family. A line that was impossible to toe because it changed constantly with them.

“Draco was used and manipulated by a psychopath, lived in fear as often as you did, and is trying to make sense of the new world and his place in it.” Celine whispered.

“He doesn’t expect forgiveness.” Astrid said reaching over and squeezing my arm. “He’s asking for help and you can say no if you want.”

I thought about Malfoy at the award ceremony hanging out with Lee and George, acting like a normal human, and I felt my head nodding yes.

***

I never fully figured out how to tell my parents about Malfoy. I managed to mumble something during tea the previous afternoon about Astrid’s cousin coming to lunch as well.

“Friend of yours from school?” My mum asked innocently. My heart died in my chest when I remembered how ignorant to my entire adolescence she still was. “No. We’re not friends. Draco Malfoy is…complicated…I think Celine could explain best.”

My father had frowned at me. Of the two of them, he trusted me least.

I carried the cold lunch tray out into the garden. Astrid let out a whoop at the sight of food and pushed herself up on the side of the pool, not bothering to swim to the ladder. George yanked her back in and dunked her under the water before climbing out himself, and getting to the sandwiches first. Astrid (using the ladder this time) strutted around the pool and towards the house with her nose in the air. Draco, who hadn’t said a word since he arrived, stayed sat in his inner tube with his left arm tucked tight against his stomach.

“Would he like a sandwich Hermione?” My mother asked looking at Draco bobbing in the now empty pool.

“He’s good.” Astrid replied for me wringing her hair out on George’s head just as he took a bite of the sandwich he raced her for.

“He’s on a liquid diet today I believe.” George continued, tucking his ruined sandwich into a napkin and putting it aside before grabbing another. “Malfoy! You need another drink mate?!” He hollered.

Malfoy raised his tumbler of whiskey and water in response. The sun glinted off the amber liquid, assuring us it was full.

“The presence of our sour guest was never fully explained.” My father began “and why is he so protective of that arm?”

I looked pointedly at Celine.

She adjusted the towel around her waist and settled more comfortably in her chair. I had never seen Celine in a bathing suit. Like Astrid, her figure was impossibly alluring. Even in her modest swimwear your eyes couldn’t help but linger. The sun and water made her navy eyes brighter but her stare was as strong as it always was.

“He’s protective of that arm because he has the Dark Mark on it and he is embarrassed by it.” She stated calmly.

“The Dark Mark…that’s _his_ mark isn’t it?” Mum asked, looking to me for confirmation.

“It is.” Celine answered. “My husband’s cousin is Draco’s mother. They are from a very old, pureblood family. The Malfoy’s were Voldemort sympathizers and Death Eaters. My nephew, for lack of a better term, was exploited and manipulated by Lord Voldemort. Willingly at first but, things changed quickly.”

“Oh dear.” Mum said looking out at Draco as if the villain from her favorite novel stepped out of the pages and into her swimming pool.

“Draco and I were enemies at school.” I told my parents. “And I just remembered I forgot to tell Harry and Ron he was coming.”

“Oh shit.” Astrid summed up eloquently.

“I concur” George added.

“Draco and Harry were mortal enemies.” I groaned and bit the nail on my thumb.

“Good thing they got held up in court then.” Astrid said.

“There’s no easy way to say this.” Celine continued “but Draco and his family are extremely prejudiced against muggles and muggleborns. Draco has been working with a therapist in an effort to fix that. He asked to come here today and Hermione was kind enough to invite our little rain cloud.”

Celine affectionately smoothed my hair and happiness jumped from her skin to mine. Astrid changed the subject and we chatted pleasantly through the rest of lunch.

I gathered the dishes on the tray and hurried into the kitchen. George was telling the story of his, Fred’s, and Lee’s underground radio show and my parent’s were hanging on his every word. I ran the water on the dishes and let out a breath I had been holding.

“Worried about Potter and Weasley?” An all too familiar drawl questioned.

I jumped “Godric Malfoy you startled me-”

“Thank you.” He said cutting me off.

He was awkwardly holding his arm to his torso still and I couldn’t bring myself to snap at him. I couldn’t bring myself to harass or belittle him and I hated it because he would never hesitate to do the same to me. I turned off the faucet and showed him the underside of my arm where the word ‘mudblood’ shown white against my skin.

“Why is that still there? It wasn’t put there by magic.”

His ray bans hid his eyes so I couldn’t really read his reaction.

“I don’t want to forget.” I said defiantly. I was losing control of my emotions. “Don’t be embarrassed by your mark.” I grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm away from his body. He immediately pulled away from my grip. Six years of his favorite retorts and insults hung unsaid in the air between us. He turned angrily away and re-entered the bathroom he had just left, both arms hung at his sides. The laughter of my parents and friends floating in through the half closed sliding door called me back outside.

When Draco returned he didn’t retreat back to his inner tube but, took the seat next to George. My mother offered to make him a plate and he shook his head no. Jaw tight. Arms shifting like he didn’t know where to put them. George reached across Draco and tapped his glass with his wand. It refilled instantly.

“Drink up Malfoy you’re drinking for two remember.”

 And then Draco did something I can’t recall ever seeing him do.

He smiled.

He didn’t smirk. He smiled around the rim of his glass and took a sip. In that moment, Draco Malfoy became human to me.

Harry and Ron didn’t make it for lunch. They showed up long after everyone left but Astrid and stayed well into the night cursing every member of the Wizengamot that ever had the audacity to live. I think it was better this way. We could tell them about Malfoy when he wasn’t there to antagonize them, or vice versa. They were almost too tired to care.

Around midnight my parents said goodnight. “Don’t stay up too late kids.” My dad requested like we were thirteen instead of closing in on nineteen. I didn’t say a word because they never got to do this. They never got the boy who lived offering help with the dishes like Mrs. Weasley and Celine did. They never got Ron eating all the leftovers like they did. Astrid had only ever been here twice so they hardly ever got to listen to their daughter and her best friend gossiping and laughing in the next room. Today had been the weirdest day but for the first time I felt like my muggle life and my magical one could meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ron: Vance Joy - Wasted Time  
> Harry: Silence- Marshmello  
> Ginny: BORNS- 10,000 Emerald Pools  
> Hermione: Florence + The Machine- Dog Days are Over

**Author's Note:**

> Songs I quoted:  
> Astrid: Timbaland-Give It to Me  
> Celine: Halsey: Coming Down  
> Sirius: Jack's Mannequin- Bruised  
> Remus: My Chemical Romance- Teenagers  
> Ginny: Katy Perry- One of the Boys  
> George: Blink 182- Down  
> Harry: The Killers-All These Things That I've Done


End file.
